Wet
by SpookshowBabyx
Summary: "I know well enough where you live, Miss Swan, I am the Mayor incase you'd forgotten. However I distinctly remember telling you I had no intentions to flirt with death merely so you'd be home in time for milk and cookies" Set during the storm. Rating is now M for obvious sexy reasons.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**_ This is probably a bit of an odd starting point for a Once fic, given that the new season has started, but this has been sitting unfinished on my computer for a while now and I prefer (at the moment) writing in the 'real world'._

_This will probably be a two shot, but as yet, I am undecided whether to take it in a smuttier direction (be warned, I have never attempted this before) or to carry on the bickering and power play that make these two have some of my favourite moments on the show. So! Lovely people of the internet- not only are your comments hugely appreciated and becoming ever so slightly like crack to me, but they could also play a part in the destiny of this little story, which, I really hope you enjoy either way!_

"What the..."

Regina squints through the sheet of rain hammering down on the Mercedes' windshield, trying to discern the flicker of movement she's positive she'd glimpsed up ahead through the gray haze. The potential sign of life is quick to spark her curiosity as only this morning the Sheriff's department had released a firm warning to Storybrooke's inhabitants to remain inside unless absolutely necessary; the weather report predicting the oncoming storm to be the worst in Maine's recent history.

The fact that she herself cruises through the deserted streets- at a pace no faster than if she'd been walking- is predominantly down to her increasing suspicions concerning the town's new 'stranger'; already showing promise of being just as irritating and leather-clad as their previous arrival. Driving around in the storm she hopes to catch him at whatever his master plan may be while he is under the impression that his movements will go unnoticed. Perhaps her suspicions border on unhealthy, but her caution has served her well in life up until now.

Deep down she supposes an additional bonus to being out in the storm is the fact that it goes expressly against said Miss leather-cladded annoyance's _express_ request not to do so.

Slowing down further, despite the warning stutter the engine gives off, the Mayor leans over her steering wheel intently; dark eyes searching for the movement that originally caught her attention. A flash of lightening shocks the world silver and throws the figure up ahead into stark relief. Frowning, the Mayor coaxes the car forward in curious pursuit, rolling down the window at her side.

"What on _earth_ are you doing, Miss Swan?"

She pulls up alongside the blonde, bathing the drenched Sheriff in the glow of her headlights. Emma slows her running; doubting that determination alone will allow her to out-sprint the stately vehicle. She shields her face from the onslaught of rain, frowning as Regina's lips form words inaudible over the downpour. She leans forward into the warmth of the Mercedes' interior, pale face glistening with icy moisture.

"_What?!_"

Regina rolls her eyes and resists the urge to snap at the blonde that 'pardon' is the socially appropriate response.

"I was enquiring as to your sanity, but then realized _that_ would constitute as a wasted question. What on earth are you doing galavanting around in this weather?"

Green eyes roll irritably back at her, and the Mayor finds herself momentarily transfixed by the liquid beads of rain perilously suspended on Emma's lashes.

"I'm not out here for the hell of it, Regina! My car broke down a mile or so down the road, I was making sure no one was _stupid_ enough to go driving around in this bitch of a storm when they needn't be"

Emma glares at her pointedly, but the older woman bares the blatant accusation no mind.

"Clearly this backfired on you quite spectacularly- if you will allow for the small pun. I would hazard a guess that the wreckage you call a car is not the best mode of transport to be out in this 'bitch of a storm' in"

"Yeah? Well if someone hadn't cut the damn brakes in the cruiser..."

"I'm sure I have no idea as to what you are insinuating, dear"

Emma huffs irritably, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to warm them. Her breath is misty in the frigid air and Regina delightedly concludes she looks a very sorry state indeed.

"What are _you_ doing out here, anyway?"

"I had some business to attend to, but I believe I will head home to warm up now. Good day, Miss Swan"

Despite her farewell, the Mayor only goes so far as to begin rolling up her window, knowing full well that Emma has no choice but to beg her for help; the nearest residence being Regina's own, and still another mile away.

"Regina- Madam Mayor, wait! Look, do you think maybe you could drive me to a phone?"

"My dear, I'm afraid your expectations of our little town are foolishly grand if you believe the phone lines will still be operational in this weather- I trust your cell is receiving no signal? And besides, who are you planning to call? You yourself administered the warning that everyone should stay inside"

"Well, do you think you could give me a lift home... please?"

"I don't think so Miss Swan, it's very much out of my way and, as I seem to have to keep reminding you, the storm could be treacherous; I don't imagine Henry would be best pleased should we both die in a car crash because you were too dimwitted to rethink driving your ridiculous bug around town"

"Oh come on, you've managed fine so far!"

Regina smirks as the younger woman growls in frustration before shoving her fists violently into her pockets and storming off down the path. Her normally bottle-blonde hair gleams sodden gold and little wisps of fog dance above her as she puffs with cold and anger. Waiting until Emma has trudged a considerable distance, the Mayor slowly cruises beside her once more, happily ignoring the other woman's murderous expression.

"Oh alright, Sheriff, get in...but do so quickly, you're getting water all over the inside of my window"

"_I'm_ getting water all over...?!"

She turns to glare at the infuriating woman but a clap of thunder forces her to swallow her pride and run swiftly around the car to the passenger side.

"_Ah_! There's a towel on the back seat, use it to cover the leather, please"

Grumbling and feeling all the dignity of a dog, Emma throws the towel over the black leather seat before huddling into the warmth of the car, cursing under her breath at the painful chill biting deep within her limbs. Regina rolls up her window and they drive on in silence, Emma fighting the urge to sniff as she has no doubt Regina will lecture her on such a lack of femininity. As the car slowly cruises past first one, and then another logical turning point Emma fixes the older woman with a look of confusion.

"You could have turned in that lay-by, there was plenty of room even if you'd skidded"

"Not that I haven't been driving for a good many years, but why would I wish to do so at all?"

"Mary Margaret's is-"

"I know well enough where you live, Miss Swan, I_ am_ the Mayor incase you'd forgotten. However I distinctly remember telling you I had no intentions to flirt with death merely so you'd be home in time for milk and cookies"

Emma shoots her a sour look and the Mayor decides her impression as to the home-life shared by the toxic woman beside her and the dopey schoolteacher is pretty accurate. How sweet.

"Where _are_ we going then?"

She asks more for confirmation than as a question; the only nearby residence in their current direction being Regina's own.

"You'll just have to wait out the worst of the storm at my house"

"...Is Henry at home?"

The blonde's eyes light up and it's Regina's turn to look sour.

"He is at home, yes, but he has a lot of homework he needs to do, so I would appreciate it if you'd refrain from getting him unnecessarily excited"

"He's _ten_! How much homework can the kid have?"

"That is something to take up with Miss Blanchard, not myself, and I wish to make the situation perfectly clear, Miss Swan; just because I have decided to take pity on you for this afternoon does not change the way I feel about you spending time with _my_ son. I simply do not see the town Sheriff catching pneumonia being helpful in the slightest"

"Oh come on, like you wouldn't just _love_ the excuse to get rid of me"

"If you'd like to get out and walk, just say the word and I'll switch the child-lock off on your side"

Emma glares at her but keeps her mouth firmly shut. With what she hopes is unseen stealth she quietly tries the door handle, uncomfortable in the knowledge that she is currently a hostage unless Regina sees fit to release her. Not missing the decidedly _un_-stealthy panicked tugging to her left, the Mayor smirks to herself.

As the white mansion looms closer Regina increases the Mercedes's speed a little too hastily; the engine worn and heated from its slow battle through the water-slick town. With a loud groan the car stutters angrily before giving out all together.

"Shit!"

"Nice going, Regina"

"Says the woman who's car suffered pretty much the same fate a short while ago"

"My ten year old '_wreckage of a car_' skidded off the road and got stuck in a mud-clogged ditch, your _Mercedes_ simply got tired of your shitty driving overheating the engine"

Regina glares at her and then at the uselessly unlit dashboard as if her anger will scare the car into cooperating for the last couple of hundred meters. When it becomes clear the older woman has absolutely no intention of exiting the car until in the shelter of her garage, Emma rolls her eyes and wrestles momentarily with her door before remembering the child-lock.

"Open up"

"I am not _walking_ through this weather, Miss Swan"

"Oh quit being such a fucking princess and just let me out already! Put the car in neutral and when I say so, take off the handbrake and give it some gas, the engine should kick over and start again"

With the child-locks deactivated, she slides out the car and slams the door- bowing her head against the instant assault of what can now only be described as sleet- and shucks on her hood as she makes her way round the back of the car. Tapping on the back windscreen she impatiently motions for Regina to roll down her window.

"Ok, take off the handbrake"

When the car doesn't budge, no matter how hard she throws her weight against it she curses before trudging around to Regina's window, her breath coming out in short pants from exertion and cold.

"I can't get it to move, I don't- _you still have the damn handbrake on!_ I just _told_ you to take it off!"

The mayor raises a shapely eyebrow, taking in the Sheriff's drenched scowl with aloof disconcern

"I didn't _hear_ you, dear"

"Well fucking read my lips or something then!"

"Calm down, Miss Swan, there's no need to shout"

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one who's getting frostbite"

"Oh, don't be so _dramatic,_ go back there and give me a thumbs up or something and I'll make sure you have more success this time with all your heroic pushing and shoving, just don't damage my car!"

"I wouldn't dream of it, your _majesty_"

She grits her teeth and stamps back to the car's trunk, bracing her hips against the black metal in case it begins to roll, before raising a hand and giving Regina the signal to go ahead. This time when she begins working against the car it grudgingly submits and eventually the Mercedes rolls forwards on the slippery tarmac as Emma continues to push; muscles aching and teeth chattering. There are a few angry whines and growls and then the engine splutters with new life and the car moves at its own accord.

Reasoning that she doesn't want to risk the vehicle giving out on her again, Regina immediately cruises towards the garage, the remote sensor starting up the large white doors in their ascent to grant her access. The blonde watches the car drive off with what can't _honestly_ be called disbelief at this point and pulls her coat securely round herself before marching in the direction of the Mayor's front door.

By the time she reaches the marble steps, Regina is waiting impatiently in the doorway, ready to sternly remind the Sheriff to remove her hideous boots before entering. Emma complies- inwardly thanking the fact that her balance is pretty impeccable as she battles with the laces and buckles- before gingerly placing the boots by the front door. She begins making her way through the ample hallway when she realizes that boots or no boots, she's still tracking water, as her socks are soaked through. Quickly removing them and balling them awkwardly into her coat pocket she stands barefoot on the mercifully heated marble, droplets cascading from her sodden coat and jeans to form a pool around her.

"Oh my, but you_ do_ look a state, Sheriff"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**_I wasn't expecting to have another chapter up so soon, but this one kind of wrote itself until the last few paragraphs where I struggled slightly. That said, I must apologise for lying to you all; this will not be a two-shot, you're going to have to put up with me for a little longer._

_Oh, and just a small note, at the very end, the scissors being referred to are from my other fic 'Observations' which takes place between these two. You don't have to have read it to understand this, and it has absolutely nothing to do with this story line, I'm just a whore for fun little references! Enjoy._

Regina motions for Emma to follow her into the drawing room to the left of the hall way, scowling at the hopeful glance the blonde throws towards the landing above them.

"Henry is busy doing homework, as I have already told you, and he will_ remain_ upstairs doing homework, as I have just requested of _him_"

Emma opens her mouth to protest, but the Mayor is already waving her hand dismissively and making her way through the impressive archway separating the two rooms

"Come now, Sheriff, you're letting out all the warmth"

Accepting defeat, Emma pads lightly on her bare feet into the drawing room and regards the hearth curiously. An open fire is working its way up to roaring, and as she continues to focus her attention on the yellow lick of flames, Regina gracefully stokes the burning logs with an ornate poker she rests back against the wall when done.

"How did you..."

"Well, while you were dilly-dallying around outside, I decided to make use of the time"

"You drove off without me!"

"Quite"

Regina smirks at her less than welcome guest but extends an arm none the less. Green eyes observe the exposed olive flesh in confusion, unsure whether the Mayor is implying she wishes to shake hands or is merely showcasing the silky perfection of her forearm. After a pointed flicker of hazel towards the dripping parka she still wears, Emma comes to the realization that the brunette is attempting to take her coat. She works cold fingers numbly at the zipper, tugging aggressively until the garment yields to her submission and hands it to Regina who sniffs in distaste and disposes of it on a hook by the door before primly laying out newspaper on the floor underneath.

Clad now in just her sodden jeans and soaked through charcoal-gray sweater, Emma resists the urge to curl up on the sofa in an attempt to warm her exposed feet beneath her. Instead she perches on the end closest to the fire and extends her legs to the welcome heat, crossing her pale ankles neatly. Regina steps over this sudden obstacle- sighing theatrically- and bends over the mahogany drinks cabinet before her.

"Cider, Miss Swan?"

The blonde eyes the amber liquid warily, and the Mayor smirks at the memory of the Sheriff's glower when discovered behind bars

"Ah, yes, I had forgotten about that. Well, dear, I wouldn't worry about waking up incarcerated, as you yourself are what we have to accept as the law in this town, and I don't believe you will be driving anywhere in the all too near future"

"Well... Just a little glass"

"Good girl"

Regina pours the fine crystal to full capacity despite her companion's request, and saunters over, not spilling a drop. She leans forward to place the glass on the low coffee table that resides between the room's two sofas, and Emma raises an eyebrow as she lays out a neat, white napkin before setting down the glass. Pouring herself a similarly large drink, Regina settles on the opposite couch and takes a delicate sip; pink tongue running over scarlet lipstick.

A silence that is more awkward than it is tense falls between the women as Emma thoughtfully watches the growing flames and Regina irritably takes in the dampness of the blonde's jeans on her furniture. Her eyes flickering to the ruined parka in the corner; she only hopes the irksome woman's ass and thighs are relatively dry. Despite her annoyance, the way the fire makes the younger woman's hair glow golden is actually rather pleasing... especially when coupled with the way the soft light plays over her face. Feeling her cheeks grow warm at the realization that she is currently bathing the Sheriff with such appreciative thoughts, Regina quickly grasps for a negative. As always, with Emma Swan, she doesn't need to look too far.

"Dear God, is that your perfume?"

Regina gives a distasteful sniff and is met with a stony glare

"I'm not wearing any perfume"

"Then that may be the problem"

Emma rolls her eyes and plucks at her sweater

"It's wool, and it's wet- wet wool stinks of wet dog, I can't help it!"

Regardless of her words, she crosses her arms over her stomach and pulls the sweater over her head, throwing it in the direction of her parka to land in a sodden heap on the floor. Regina's lip quirks in annoyance but the aforementioned smell dissipates instantly, and now only the faint scent of rain lingers. The lightly sun-kissed skin of the blonde's arms and chest dapples with goosebumps at this sudden exposure, but the heat from the fire is strong, and she is much more comfortable in the thin tank she wears without the damp chill of her outer garments.

"Oh, but of course, _please_, make yourself at home, Miss Swan"

The Mayor's tone drips sarcasm, but her dark eyes linger on the Sheriff's pale flesh momentarily before fixing her with a cool stare. Emma shrugs- collarbones rippling pleasingly beneath her skin- and reaches for her glass.

"Thanks"

It is unclear whether this is a goading response to her sarcasm or a well-hidden, but genuine statement of gratitude regarding the situation, so Regina decides to ignore it. They drink in silence a while longer, but the cider is sweet and good and blesses the atmosphere with an odd form of comfort. Emma licks her lips appreciatively free of the slightly sticky liquid and grins in amusement as Regina unintentionally mimics her. The Mayor doesn't return her smile, but neither does she glare at her which Emma decides is a positive thing.

"So, what _was_ the 'business' you had to attend to that was so important you had to venture out into the storm _even_ if it meant, uh, 'flirting with death', anyway?"

Regina raises an eyebrow but dodges the question easily

"You're lucky I _did_ venture out, Miss Swan! Where exactly were you headed when I came across you?"

"I figured if I made my way to the garage that even if the mechanic didn't feel like braving the weather, I could at least borrow a tow-truck or wait out the storm- I was going to cut through the woods at the turning just ahead of where we met"

The Mayor blanches slightly at this- her eyes momentarily horrified- before quickly composing herself and throwing Emma a look of disdain.

"Oh, _sure_, what an _excellent_ idea, Sheriff! The garage is _only_ a good three miles trek through the forrest, and you have absolutely no idea where you're going; we would have been sending you back to Boston in a body-bag!_ If, _that is, we were able to find you at all!"

Emma scowls at Regina's low expectations of her orienteering skills- however accurate they may be- but then breaks into a grin and cocks her head to regard Regina with mischievous eyes

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were just worried about me"

"Just the lack of sanity that would lead you to trekking through rough terrain in this 'whore of a storm', dear"

"Bitch of a storm"

"... My apologies, you have an impressive mouth on you, it's hard to keep up"

"So I've been told"

Emma offers her host a salacious wink, causing the latter to choke on her cider. Regina sniffs, cheeks rouging slightly.

"I'd rather you spare me the details on your most recent alley-way encounter, if it's all the same to you"

The blonde rolls her eyes dramatically as a shiver travels down her body. She rubs her arms fiercely as the Mayor realizes the Sheriff's lips are tinged almost the same shade of blue as the bra visible through her damp white tank.

"Miss Swan, you're shaking"

"No I'm not"

She squares her jaw indignantly, but can't help herself as another shiver racks through her torso. Regina sighs and gets up to walk behind Emma. The blonde tenses immediately; unsure what the darker woman plans to do, but manages to repress her urge to jump when heavy fabric drapes her shoulders. She pulls the proffered quilt tightly around her and mutters a thank you to Regina who resumes her place on the sofa.

"You are perhaps one of the stubbornest people I have ever met, Miss Swan"

She says it as though musing rather than derogatively, merely casting Emma a pondering glance

"Well, we wouldn't have nearly as much fun if I wasn't"

The blonde grins and the Mayor barks loudly with laughter before she can help herself. She glares at the Sheriff accusingly but the corners of her mouth twitch with mirth

"I'm not sure '_fun_' is something I associate you with, my dear, but you do offer a pitiful source of amusement at times I suppose"

Emma simply smiles and shrugs her shoulders, reaching for her cider and giving in to temptation and curling up so that her entire body is engulfed within the blanket save for slender hands and pale face. Regina imagines they must look a very peculiar couple, as she smooths out the beginnings of a crease in her impeccably crisp dress-pants. Squaring her shoulders in their tailored suit she fluffs her silky brunette waves so that they bounce just short of her jacket. Emma watches from her huddled ball on the sofa- damp blonde curls escaping in every direction- deciding to locate her brush when she gets home.

Not that she's jealous of Regina's flawless locks of course.

"Like what you see, dear?"

Emma blinks and tears her eyes away from the fingers still teasing the chestnut strands that frame the Mayor's face. She gives the glass in her hand a wary look and lowers it from her lips distrustfully.

"I like your hair"

_Oh for the love of... get a grip, Swan, 'I like your hair', what the fuck was that?! What are you, five?_

She gives herself a firm mental slap, but Regina merely nods as though she expects nothing less.

"Thank you, it's called conditioner"

"Your wit astounds me- I'll make sure the _next_ time I'm on duty in a fucking storm I pack a bottle of herbal essence"

Green eyes narrow as the Sheriff drawls sarcastically, causing the Mayor to smirk. She gets up and repositions herself so that she sits next to the- now slightly wary- younger woman and runs slender fingers through blonde tresses in a business-like manner.

"You know, it's not actually _that_ bad, but it needs a brush, and it _desperately_ needs a trim"

Emma eyes the gold scissors on the desk in corner nervously

"If you plan on coming anywhere near me with those scissors again, I'm going to need a _lot_ more cider"

"Well, _that_ can easily be arranged, Sheriff"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone who has been reading this story so far! I apologise that this is moving slower than I had said it would; I have never written anything even vaguely resembling smut before so I guess this is a slow battle with stage fright. _

_Also, I hate to sound like an unabashed self promoting ass-hole, and I hadn't originally planned on linking the two stories at all, but this chapter again contains references to my One-shot 'Observations'. They are a little more in-depth this time, but you still don't have to have read the story to understand this one, it's just when Regina is referring to the time she has seen Emma without her jeans on before, and several comments she makes involving this, are referring to that previous scene. Enjoy! _

Regina kneels on the far end of the couch; sharp heels digging softly into the flesh of her backside. Although several of her words twist harshly towards her companion, most of what she has to say is what could be considered 'normal' conversation- not quite 'friendly', perhaps- but getting there. The glass she holds delicately between slim fingers wavers as she becomes more animated, the liquid within tipping perilously high up the crystal sides, but never spilling.

Emma slouches with the armrest of the sofa digging softly into her back, but pays it little mind. At some point she has kicked the quilt down her body so it now just covers her feet as she sits with her knees up between them, facing Regina. She pours some of the dwindling amber liquid from the carafe into her glass before leaning out to place the decanter back on the table. It's an awkward stretch in her current position and she falls into the last few inches; stomach tensing painfully to try and control the movement and avoid smashing the large glass jug into the table.

"Careful, dear, perhaps that should be your last"

Regina points at the brimming glass in the blonde's hand and Emma scowls at her

"I'm not drunk"

"Of course not"

"I just underestimated the distance"

"Or rather, _over_estimated your abilities- a trend I have long associated with yourself"

"Oh please, you couldn't _handle_ some of my abilities!"

_Ok so maybe she's a little drunk._

Not surprising as for each glass the Mayor sips at daintily, the Sheriff finds herself working through twice the amount.

_Well if the damn woman would shut up for a second perhaps they'd be more evenly matched._

She allows Regina's pleasantly warm voice to continue to wash over her; something about Archie and his credentials and what she makes of sparks between him and the promiscuous little tramp at the diner. Emma opens her mouth to object to such words being used against Ruby, but decides against it. She hasn't really been paying attention and the last thing she needs is for the Mayor to call her up on it. Instead she gives a small nod, indicating the brunette should go on, and idly pokes out her tongue to lap childishly at the cider in her glass. This earns her a disapproving frown which in turn has her cheerfully repeating the act; green eyes comically focused on the drink in front of her, almost crossed. Regina loses her train of thought and her story comes to a halt

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

Wide doe-eyes convey complete innocence. Regina merely glares at her but doesn't elaborate so Emma feigns ignorance. Eyes intently captivating the Mayor's own she slowly slips her tongue back out and delicately touches the tip to the amber liquid, never once breaking eye-contact. Olive cheeks flare an angry scarlet

"For the love of God, Miss Swan, put your tongue away before I chop it off!"

She shoots a pointed glance at the scissors gleaming in the corner and Emma snaps her tongue swiftly up behind her teeth which grin at the Mayor sharkishly.

_Gosh, but she has pretty teeth._

Emma eventually stops grinning quite so psychopathically but a smile remains as she tips the drink properly to her mouth and lets it glide easily down her throat. Regina lets her finish most of the drink before lunging forward and deftly plucking the glass from unsuspecting fingers.

"Hey!"

The brunette lets out a throaty chuckle, dark eyes gleaming as she leans so close to Emma that her breath tickles porcelain cheeks. She flashes her own smile as the blonde shrinks back slightly, leaning away from that hot, distracting breath, unintentionally exposing a tantalizingly long swatch of bare flesh at her neck. This illicits another titter as Regina finishes the last of the liquid in her requisitioned glass and places it on the table to their side.

"What was _that_?"

"You're showing several signs of having had quite enough to drink, dear, I'm merely saving you from any potential embarrassment"

Emma huffs, regarding the Mayor cooly as the older woman still leans in too close; her weight carried on strong, slender arms that end in a tight grip at Emma's knees. Regina glares at her a moment longer before looking down at her hands on blue denim in distaste.

"Your jeans are still damp, Miss Swan, you'll catch a cold"

Emma shrugs; the wet fabric is slightly uncomfortable but she has warmed up considerably and isn't particularly bothered.

"I'm ok, and anyway, the last time you were threatened with me taking off my jeans was terribly traumatic if you remember, I'd _hate_ to put you through that again"

Regina regards her levelly, more than happy beat the woman before her at her own game

"Nonsense, dear, I'll go fetch you something to borrow"

She pushes up from Emma's legs and feigns intent to get off the couch. Strong fingers circle her wrist quickly and force her to remain put

"To hell you will, I had bruised hips for a week where those damn slacks cut in"

The brunette smiles unsympathetically

"I apologize, that must have called for quite some explanation to whichever gentlemen you were friendly with that particular week"

Green eyes roll dramatically at the barbed comment

"Oh shut up, Regina"

"Or what?"

Impulsively, Emma grins and pushes herself up till she's kneeling high up on the couch. She makes a show of working at the belt at her hips; teasing the buckle open and pulling the belt slowly through the loops of her jeans. She waits for a cry of distaste or anger. She waits for Regina to call her bluff but the brunette just raises an eyebrow and leans back against her armrest to observe.

The belt completely free, Emma holds it out over the cold floor and lets it drop gently; the dark leather curling into a serpentine shape below them. Still that perfectly plucked eyebrow remains raised and expectant and the Sheriff slowly realizes she doesn't have much of a plan from here on out. Testing the water she pops the button of her Levi's and drags down the zipper but still no protest comes from the other end of the couch. Cheeks pinkening a little she hooks a finger on either side of her hips in preparation to pull the denim down. The key word being preparation. Regina smirks and green eyes flicker over to her haughtily.

"Don't like to be kept waiting?"

Bold words to cover hesitant actions but the Mayor bites back easily

"Just waiting to see if you're a woman true to her word"

Emma looks at her quizzically, hips still up in the air, fingers still ready to peel away the wet denim encasing her thighs. Sexual but for the endearing expression of incomprehension. The Mayor snickers and lets her eyes wonder down the taught stomach at her eye-level; beautifully visible through translucently delicate material.

"What word is that?"

"The last time I saw quite so...much... of you, Miss Swan, you were wearing some absolutely _delightful_ little shorties depicting some _adorable_ cartoon characters, and, when I questioned you on this...do you remember what you told me?"

Emma struggles to recollect her words- the answer hazy as her body thrums with the heat of the cider. Everything is apples and her face feels a little too warm, but her hooded eyes regarding the Mayor depict the similar tell-tale signs of tipsy. Slowly the answer dawns on her and she feels the blush at her cheeks bloom brighter.

"...That my crotchless leathers were in the wash"

Slightly smudged scarlet lips stretch into a salacious smile

"Indeed, and if I remember correctly, you boldly promised to show me... 'next time'... which I'd say this is, Miss Swan"

Still the blonde hesitates; unsure whether she's playing or being played. The fire still burns behind her; casting her features with dusky shadow, the flames haloing her hair white. Regina bores into her with eyes that look almost black in the current light, waiting to see what move the Sheriff will make.

"Your hesitance is making me think you're all talk, Miss Swan, that if you were to remove your jeans as you threaten, I will have firm confirmation that you're nothing but a dirty liar"

Pale fingers tremble tellingly, still hooked in the loops of her Levi's and Regina's eyes flash with victory

"So you_ are_ a liar... naughty girl... so who would I see this time? Mickey Mouse? Or are you secretly a Mini girl?"

The Mayor's lips are curled too wide; too sure she holds the winning hand. Emma decides to play her own, delivering a Royal Flush. She pulls at the belt loops- sideways rather than downward- slowly splaying the material out from the zip, creating a small wedge of what lies beneath the jeans to be exposed in a tantalizing V.

She was, of course, lying about the crotchless leathers. However the triangle of fabric that holds the Mayor's attention is neither cotton, nor does it depict the face of any wholesomely loved American character.

The red lace is simple, and minimal in more ways than one. It clashes with the blue of her visible bra-straps but Regina decides she's willing to forgive this much; and after all, it's not as if she's surprised at the mismatch. Her eyes linger on the red swatch of fabric a moment longer before traveling slowly up the still raised body and drilling into Emma's own. The blonde remains carefully expressionless as she holds Regina's intense stare; still poised, fingers still hooked into her jeans. The brunette flashes her gaze at the slender fingers entwined with the denim and when she speaks her voice is slightly hoarse.

"Take them off"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _Sorry this took a little while to update. I had planned on doing the, uh, 'climax' of a chapter all in one, but decided to upload this first half before you all forget just where things were headed between these two lovely ladies. Please comment- I have never written anything in this tone before and am anxious to know if it's working for you all?__  
_

_"Take them off"_

Seconds crawl languidly past and still the Sheriff remains motionless. Regina tilts her jaw to look up at the blonde irritably; not accustomed to being denied what she pleases, especially in a situation such as this. Alabaster skin blushes crimson and Emma's pleasingly pink bottom lip is trapped between teeth the Mayor is willing to bet- willing to _hope_- are as sharp as they look. The expression is undeniably sexy, perhaps largely due to the fact that it's the result of nervousness- the seductive nature of the act a happy side effect.

_Well look who's suddenly come over all shy_

She could taunt Emma- after all, it's what comes naturally- but the situation is fragile and she doesn't wish for it to break just yet. Instead she gently places her hands over Emma's own.

_What the hell, she wants to hold hands now?_

The blonde looks down at where the Mayor's fingers encase her own, quizzically. She's never been one for handholding or anything else in that horrifically intimate spectrum. She battles internally against the urge to pull her hands from beneath the the brunette's soft palms, but the flawlessly manicured hands of the Mayor are firm, and rather than stroking and caressing, they begin to manipulate her own fingers from the denim hooks of her Levis. Emma allows her hands to be guided up and away from her jeans- holding them up awkwardly with her palms splayed loosely towards Regina as she awaits communication on what comes next.

Strong fingers hook into the denim roughly and tug viciously downwards. The blonde falls forward due to the aggressive jerk as her jeans are ripped halfway down her thighs, clutching Regina's shoulders and letting out a harsh gasp of surprise in the perfect shell of her ear.

"Fuck!"

She feels scarlet lips smirk into her hair at her breathless curse, as slim hands release coarse denim and rest gently on the smooth skin of her thighs; cupping them from behind a few inches below the swell of her ass.

With Emma bent into her, still on her knees, Regina lets her eyes travel over the bare, muscular planes of her shoulder blades, down over the thin fabric of her top, until they revel on the smooth, pale expanse of the small of her back and the delicate red lace that narrows perfectly at the cleft of pertly toned ass cheeks.

She momentarily considers making wearing cotton shorties illegal.

Aesthetic pleasure aside, the fact still remains that the blonde is indeed a liar, and the Mayor refuses to let such things slide. She brings the flat of her hand down hard on the pale, rounded flesh of the Sheriff's behind with enough force to mark. A choked yelp in her ear assures her the lesson is well on its way to being learnt as Emma pushes up off her, shaking her mussed hair out of eyes that flash an angry gray

"Did you just fucking_ spank_ me?!"

The blonde's fingers digging painfully into her shoulders, Regina eyes her cooly as the younger woman leans back to give herself a better vantage point to glare down haughtily. A small twitch at the side of Emma's mouth betrays incredulous amusement despite her anger at the act. The Mayor merely smiles at her, a finger running lazily over the waistband of lace at Emma's backside.

"You lied to me, Miss Swan, and that is something I simply _cannot_ allow to go unpunished"

Eyebrows arch and the blonde eyes her caustically.

"You're gonna _punish_ me? Seriously!? As in 'you've been a bad, _bad_ little girl, Emm'-_A_!"

Hands cup her ass firmly and jerk her roughly forwards once more; crimson lips swallowing her ever persistent sarcasm in a painful clashing of teeth. She cries out, surprised, the sound curiously muffled as Regina bites down on her bottom lip before locking her fingers into blonde tangles and forcing Emma's head back to attack her throat with a similar onslaught of tongue and teeth.

"Wh- What are you doing?"

The brunette smirks into soft, honey-scented skin at the audible panic in Emma's hoarse whisper; nipping playfully at her pulse-point and earning a sharp intake of breath. She soothes the abused flesh with her tongue, chuckling at the tense rigidity of the blonde's finely muscled frame as she battles between resistance and relish.

"I would have thought it was fairly obvious, dear"

"Regina,_ ah_, stop..."

The anxiety playing through Emma's tone, causing her voice to waver slightly, is juxtaposed by the way her hands- previously clamped on the brunette's shoulders- flutter down the fine silk of her suit jacket before bare arms loosely embrace her neck. Leaning back slightly, Emma forces the Mayor to stop her ministrations, green eyes glittering with confusion as they finally capture Regina's own.

"I- Why are you... I didn't think you even... I thought you_ hated_ me?"

"Oh, I _do_, dear"

Hands that never left the smooth skin of her ass softly creep up to rest on her hips and guide her gently down so that their eyes are locked at the same level. Emma studies the Mayor's face curiously, eyes flickering over her delicately features; taking in every small detail. Red lipstick is now just a ghostly memory; its remnants smudged salaciously outside the natural lines of perfect lips. A small scar mars the skin of Regina's upper lip and the blonde runs a feather-light fingertip along its length.

"Good, at least it's mutual"

"What is?"

"I hate you too..."

Hesitant lips press softly against Regina's; no demand for access- no urgency- just testing the water. The Mayor bites the inside of her cheeks to stop from smirking into the kiss; Emma's tentative nervousness surprising her.

The soft flutter of breath against her skin as the Regina stifles her amusement is not lost on the Sheriff however, and she pulls immediately away as if scalded. Stormy eyes flash untrustingly, hurt feelings hidden by a sneer as she glares at the brunette.

"Something funny?"

Her voice is dangerously low and Regina barely represses a shiver.

_Dear God, if she continues to use that tone she can have whatever she damn wants._

"Just never figured you for the shy retiring type"

"Never figured _you_ as a sexual predator, and yet, here we are"

"_Sexual predator_? Really, dear? I believe you started this with your little display of indecent exposure"

"I was proving a point! I didn't ask you to molest me!"

The brunette laughs at the indignation in Emma's tone, and doesn't miss the sparkle in those green eyes- daring her to continue despite her verbal complaints regarding the situation. She uses the pleasant ridges of the blonde's hipbones to steer her slightly off to the side, eventually managing to settle her so that she straddles one suit-clad knee. She runs her fingers softly up and down the smooth, milky expanse of Emma's thighs as the latter curls fingers into silken chestnut locks.

It's soft and gentle and so out of character that neither woman can fathom what the other's next move will be.

Manicured fingers travel teasingly close to the apex of Emma's thighs causing her to shudder and give one last fleeting attempt at talking sense into the situation.

"Don't, we shouldn't-"

Regina's mouth quickly finds hers once more, and fingers leave her thighs to cup her cheeks, preventing her from pulling away.

"You talk too much, Miss Swan"

As she mutters these words, the sheriff takes advantage of her open mouth and slips her tongue between parted lips- seemingly deciding to take on the notion of 'if you can't beat them, join them'.

The Mayor allows the kiss to deepen- allowing momentary control, unable to distinguish Emma's taste from her own as everything is apples- before biting down hard on the blonde's bottom lip, increasing the pressure until she's rewarded with a soft cry and the salted taste of iron.

Pulling back slowly, she takes in the smear of red at the younger woman's mouth; slightly taken aback that Emma would allow the bite to intensify to the point of bleeding. She drags an experimental thumb down over the broken flesh, rubbing away the scarlet stain and exposing teeth painfully white by contrast. The blonde nips suddenly at the fleshy pad of her thumb, scraping the bloodied whorl of her fingertip roughly with her teeth.

_Christ, so much for being the shy, retiring type!_

She leans back in and captures Emma's lips with new found vigor; the taste of cider marred with the coppery tang of the younger woman's blood. Pale hands creep up the front of Regina's jacket, finding the lapels and pulling the garment roughly aside to expose a silken sleeveless blouse and the equally soft, bare flesh of her arms. Regina lets out a soft moan as the Sheriff's mouth leaves hers to start a smoldering trail down her jaw towards her collarbone- all teeth and tongue; sharp then soothing. Fingers start to work blindly at the small, gold buttons of her blouse with admirable dexterity.

"D-don't start something you can't finish, Sheriff"

Teeth graze aggresively against her collarbone, and the expert fingers now working between the valley of her breasts suddenly tug hard at the material; ripping the shirt the rest of the way open and leaving the Mayor in no doubt Emma has every intention of finishing what they've started.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**_ Yes, yes, I lied once more. No this is not the last chapter, as there is still more fun to be had between these two. However this was getting quite lengthy and felt long overdue. Please, please, please tell me what you think. I've raised the rating for this chapter and need to know if the time has come to hide embarrassed under a rock! _

"Miss Swan, that was wildly inappropriate!"

Regina barks angrily as she looks down to survey her ruined shirt in disbelief. She feels a cruel scrape at her collarbone as Emma's lips uncover sharp teeth; laughing huskily into tanned flesh.

"I don't think _anything_ about this is exactly appropri-_ AH_!"

Regina tightens her hand around a fist-full of pale silken gold and wrenches the younger woman's head back forcefully- glaring into eyes that shimmer with what she suspects is lust rather than pain. For the most part anyway. A hint of bloody scarlet still clings to the blonde's kiss-swollen lips and the delicately sparse spatter of freckles on her nose is just noticeable under such close inspection. Emma regards the Mayor testily, forbidding her eyes from watering as the grip on her hair intensifies.

"Quiet!"

Regina pushes the Sheriff off her forcefully; Emma landing on her back on the sofa, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. She quickly sits herself back up, crossing her legs, and looks up at the Mayor in disbelief. The brunette throws her a final scowl before turning her back and stalking away from the couch.

_What the fuck! Is she serious? She only damn well went and started all this! Whatever 'this' is..._

"Regina..."

A sharp turn on stiletto heels and the Mayor faces her once more, the delicate click of the lock behind her deafeningly loud through the palpable tension. Silk hangs open- the fabric pulled in places and missing several buttons- to expose a narrow swatch of soft, olive flesh. The brunette runs a hand over the lust-marked skin of her neck and pierces the Sheriff with a dark glance.

"I don't know- nor do I wish for you to enlighten me on- what debauched activities you get up to after a bottle of cheap whisky and a night on the prowl, Miss Swan, but I_ do_ know that if you _dare_ use your teeth on me one more time, you will be outside in the storm so fast you won't know what hit you"

Despite her perturbed tone, her hands move sensually to her hips- the stance that of irritation, but the motion serving to part the fabric of her shirt further to display delicate ivory lace. The blonde trails the exposed flesh with lust-darkened eyes, her tongue darting quickly over her bottom lip. She can just make out the flushed marks her teeth have left on the older woman's throat; a stark contrast to the rest of her which stands as the epitome if perfection.

She understands. The Mayor is flawless and will not permit Emma to mark her.

She nods in silent comprehension, curls cascading heavily over her shoulder. She tucks her bare legs up beneath her and waits for Regina to resume her place on the sofa.

After a moment's pause, the brunette walks softly back over to her seat- heels clicking dangerously- but doesn't proceed to lower herself onto the plush upholstery. Instead she stands before the Sheriff- looking down at her with fierce brown eyes- running her hands sensually to the front of her shirt. She slowly peels apart the silken fabric and allows the garment to drop from her shoulders to the floor in a whisper.

Emma is curiously reminded of the porcelain doll owned by a young classmate a lifetime ago; the Mayor's skin redolent of that perfect blemish-free china. Flawless. Faultless.

She stands to face the brunette, hands moving to rest timidly on the latter's waist. With Regina still in her heels, they are of exactly the same height, and dark, latin eyes pierce her own intensely. She feels momentarily shy- begrudgingly in awe of the older woman's soft perfection- and uncomfortably inadequate; a feeling distressingly familiar. She suddenly wishes she'd kept her damn jeans on; the expanse of skin she has offered up for display pales in comparison to the Mayor's in more ways than one. A large bruise decorates her right thigh; a memento from a disagreement with the kitchen table a few days ago, and a splash of maroon colors the narrow bone of her shin where she's nicked herself whilst shaving.

Sensing the blonde's continued uncharacteristic hesitation, Regina captures her mouth, softly this time. She sways her body slightly, hinting that she will permit the younger woman's hands to explore. Her encouragement is rewarded when cool fingers run softly over her sides and back, tickling slightly as they stroke the sensitive flesh over her ribcage. She lets out a small sigh and Emma can't help but grin into the kiss

"Ticklish?"

In their current position, her words play gentle breath over the Mayor's lips. Regina opens one eye in irritation to silently challenge sparkling green. She trails a featherlight finger up the soft flesh of Emma's inner thigh and the blonde takes an involuntary step back, shivering.

"No more than you, it would seem"

"I'm not ticklish, you just surprised me!"

Regina rolls her eyes at the Sheriff's persistent stubbornness, despite inwardly realizing her growing taste for that ever combative tongue.

"Really, dear? You stand here half naked and willing, and it surprises you that I would desire to touch you?"

Emma gives a noncommittal sound of indifference but a deep blush creeps delicately over her cheeks at the Mayor's words. She quickly strives to shatter the moment- a little too overwhelmed by the complex feelings churning inside her chest- and pulls Regina into a harsh kiss, her body completely flush with the other woman's bare torso. The brunette runs her finger up the Sheriff's thigh once again- much more deliberately this time- before gently continuing up to cup the blonde through delicate lace. Emma stiffens instantly at the intimate contact but doesn't pull away.

They stand like this for a couple of beats; each acutely aware of the others breathing and heat. Regina doesn't move her fingers, just keeps them pressed lightly to the blonde's center as the Sheriff gradually allows herself to relax. Emma eventually glides her hand up the smooth skin of the Mayor's back and deftly unclasps the ivory bra with a quick flick of her wrist. She braces herself for the wrath this gesture may incur but her only penance is a delicate kiss to the side of her mouth. Their close proximity keeps the garment in place; held up between Regina's chest and her own.

The Mayor moves her fingers slowly against the hot lace at the blonde's core, relishing the feeling as the latter trembles against her. Emma lets out a shuddering breath- tickling the brunette's lips hotly- and wills herself to step away, allowing Regina's bra to drop softly to the floor. She takes another step back to better her view. The Mayor rests her hands on her hips, brazenly allowing the Sheriff's eyes to travel the prefect curves of her body. The blonde catches her lip with her teeth, causing Regina to smirk.

"I have a face, you know"

"Yeah, but I've seen _that_ already"

Emma's eyes don't even flicker as she speaks and the Mayor scoffs at her humorously.

"I won't bother asking you if you like what you see- if you were any _more_ obvious, you'd be drooling"

"So don't"

Slim hands travel to find the clasp on the Mayor's dress pants, but are deterred as the brunette swiftly taps them away.

"Oh no, Miss Swan, it's your turn to show and tell"

Emma pulls back her reprimanded hands to rest on her hips irritably, throwing the brunette a disgruntled look. Her annoyance, however, is simply smoke and mirrors for the unease she feels. Despite their spattering of bruises she knows her legs are long, coltish, and pleasing to the eye. She has always been much more self-conscious about her upper body, and her current competition seems cruelly unfair.

Regina senses a shift in the Sheriff's emotions and regards the younger woman curiously. She recalls her own brief exploration of Emma's midsection- unbeknownst to the blonde herself- which had revealed those painfully damning silver stretch-marks and the cruel scarring at her ribs. The sudden wave of empathy and understanding she feels surprises her almost into disgust, but she knows the younger woman won't stand for being coaxed out of her clothes with kindness anyway.

"Don't tell me you've lost your nerve, Sheriff"

The words have the effect she knew they would, and Emma throws her a long-suffering glance before pulling her tank top over her head. She shakes out her hair and stands with her hands on bare hips; her combative stance daring Regina to criticize. The lean muscle that lines her slender frame suggests the Sheriff may not be the best person to aggravate- not that the Mayor could find many words of fault even if she'd wished to do so. She offers a coy smile at the younger woman before taking her hand and gently pulling her clear of the sofa; proceeding to stalk around her in an excruciatingly slow circle, drinking in the form before her.

As with her legs- the Sheriff's torso is pale, smooth and dappled with various freckles and marks. Her slight frame showcases both her bone structure and musculature pleasingly, and she allows Regina to continue her circle of observation uncomfortably but patiently. She holds herself awkwardly, unsure what to do with her hands, ending up with one in a tight fist at her side while the other hovers self-consciously over the scar above her stomach.

"Do you want to talk about how you got it?"

"No"

"Then I won't ask"

With that, firm hands push her back towards the sofa and when the backs of her knees make contact she falls down with a yelp, eyes locked into the burning sienna coals glittering above her. Regina stands with her shins pressed against the lip of the sofa, her legs between Emma's and smiles down at the blonde salaciously. She closes her eyes and runs a her hands up into her hair, down her neck to cup her breasts- letting out a soft moan- before training her nails lightly down her stomach to find the clasp of her dress pants. Peering slowly up through sooty lashes she proceeds to finger open the clasp and let the crisp, expensive material fall ghost-like to the floor. She steps neatly out of her heels before bending down to catch the blonde's awe-parted lips.

The soft kiss deepens and Regina shoves abruptly at the Sheriff's shoulders, forcing her down so that she lies on her back. The brunette smirks at the small sound of indignation below her and lightly clambers onto the pale limbs which quiver beneath her; straddling taught thighs and leaning down to capture Emma's bottom lip with her teeth.

The blonde breaks the kiss and trails down into the hollow of Regina's neck. The Mayor tenses, ready to scold harshly if bitten, but the Sheriff merely presses the flat of her tongue where before she had used her teeth, causing the brunette's pulse to race.

Ivory silk presses down hotly on red lace as the Mayor runs her fingers through blonde tresses, eyes blissfully closed as Emma continues her delicate ministrations on her clavicles. She repositions herself slightly, wriggling until the sharp peak of the blonde's hipbone presses against the place she needs it most.

"Fuck"

Gravelly laughter into her flesh and she pushes herself up and regards the Sheriff with a scowl.

"Something funny, Miss Swan?"

Emma simply grins smugly back up at her; eyes flashing feverishly in the dying light of the fire. Regina pounces suddenly forward, nipping at soft flesh through cheap blue fabric.

"_Regina! Shit!_"

The blonde's hips buck up in surprise as her body jerks in reaction to Regina's teeth, causing the woman above her to groan softly before smirking down at the Sheriff wickedly.

"Take it off or I do that again"

"You say that like it's a threat"

The Mayor raises her eyebrows in surprise before lowering her mouth with explicit purpose and biting down hard on the fragile skin of the Sheriff's clavicle, causing the younger woman to shake as the pressure increases unbearably. The blonde's breathing quickens to short, pained pants as she grazes her fingers frantically over Regina's thighs. Finally pulling away, the Mayor observes the younger woman's face with something close to wonder; her eyes clamped shut, her lips parted wantonly.

"Take it off, Sheriff, or I _won't_ do that again"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **_Sorry for the long wait- I found this chapter very hard to write... so I got slightly tipsy and suddenly everything was sex! I hope you enjoy!_

Emma pushes herself up so that she sits face to face with Regina- the brunette's legs still draped over her own. Manicured fingers tease their way through a curtain of gold, blindly searching for purchase and submission from the irritable garment that serves as the only barrier between the two women's upper bodies.

"What _the_... what the hell is wrong with this thing?"

The Mayor snarls low in her ear while Emma tries to keep from squirming as sharp nails claw ruthlessly at her back. Deciding to take action before Regina can draw blood, she reaches up behind herself and tugs the trickily crooked teeth loose. The brunette sniffs in distaste

"One of the many reasons to refrain from buying cheap underwear"

"Well, I'm _sorry_ I didn't put as much forethought into what to wear in the case of a storm-induced romp as you"

"That is an ugly word, Sheriff, and not my point; you wouldn't display a Rembrandt in a cheap frame"

"I wasn't planning on _displaying_ anything!"

"Clearly, as even going so far as to select matching under-garments seems beyond you"

"Whatever you say, Picasso"

An irritated tug to her hair causes the blonde to chuckle as she leans back slightly and allows for the Mayor to trail a wet course down her sternum with her tongue. Veering to one side, Regina catches the narrow strap of Emma's unhooked bra between her teeth and drags it slowly over her shoulder until it dangles loosely over her arm. She repeats the action on the other side before pulling the cheap fabric cleanly away; throwing it in the vague direction of the rest of the blonde's clothes.

"Much better"

Regina runs her hand appreciatively up the valley between the blonde's breasts and offers her a decidedly wet kiss.

"Well, at least now I know how to sweeten you up next time we argue"

"Oh, _do_ shut up, Miss Swan"

"Make me"

Rolling her eyes the brunette slips the younger woman her tongue, before pulling back to see the Sheriff grinning at her impishly.

_Well aren't you quite the schizophrenic little pixie, Miss Swan_

Regina pushes at the blonde's sternum with more force, directing her back onto the sofa, following suit herself, so that her slender frame gently crushes the pale form beneath her. She can feel the Sheriff's breasts heaving against her own, as ragged breaths whisper against her cheek. She readjusts herself slightly so that Emma's thigh rubs deliciously against the quickly dampening crotch of her panties and smirks at the younger woman's gasp upon discovering her wetness. Grinding down harder she braces herself with a hand on the armrest behind Emma's head so as better to study her companion.

The blonde takes advantage of the space created between them to run her hands roughly up the Mayor's sides before palming coyly at the breasts now directly above her. Regina moans quietly and rewards the Sheriff with a rather wet kiss. Her dark locks brush against pale cheeks teasingly, catching on dark lashes, and she groans into the other's mouth as she feels her nipple rolled, none too gently, between slim fingers. She retaliates with an experimental nip at the blonde's lip, quickly tasting fresh copper as she reopens the indents from her previous assault. Limbs beneath her tense and she feels more than hears a soft keening from below her, but before she can release the wounded flesh from between her teeth, the thigh she straddles so deliciously works a small rotation, effectively increasing the tantalizing friction between her heat and Emma's leg.

"Oh _god_"

She groans the words before she can stop herself, Emma's bruised lip still in place between gritted teeth. She feels the wetness of her mouth increase as the metallic taste becomes stronger and finally lets the Sheriff go, bracing herself up again so she can look into the pale face below her that dances with eery shadows cast by the fire. A thin trickle of blood flows freely from the blonde's lip and down her chin, the droplet caught perilously on the sharp line of her jaw before descending into the hollow of her slender neck. Its progress is slow, and Regina is unsure how much time elapses as she watches the ruby pearl drop, but their breathing is harsh and synchronized, and the blonde's leg continues to slowly stimulate her through sodden silk.

_I did that._

Despite it being somewhat out of character, she still expects to feel a small sense of... guilt? Perhaps that would be too strong a word, but at least a sense of wrong-doing, upon having drawn blood from the younger woman, but looking down into eyes so diluted that only the thinnest rim of green is visible she feels only arousal. As a woman in her position she has occasionally inflicted measurable amounts of pain into her passion, but never before has the action been spurred on so by the recipient. Pain is not something she herself has ever thought of as a particular turn on- preferring the satisfaction of power over physical disciplines- but the harsh breaths of the blonde beneath her and the darkness of those irritatingly unique eyes has her rethinking the matter.

"Do you_ like_ it rough, Sheriff?"

She was aiming for seductive but suppresses a cringe at how lame the question sounds when voiced; reminiscent of bad pornography at best. Regardless, the thigh working it's magic against her centre grinds with a new violence, and battered lips form a positively evil grin. Emma lifts her head to bring a pebbled nipple into her mouth, sharp teeth closing with measured force. Regina instantly grabs a fistful of hair from the crown of the Sheriff's scalp and slams her back down into the sofa, silently delighting in the small yelp and the wet smack as the younger woman relinquishes her nipple painfully.

"What did I tell you about biting!?"

The blonde smirks boldly, and the Mayor slams her own body down roughly; forcing the air painfully from Emma's lungs. The brunette remains nose to pretty nose with the younger woman, piercing her icily with her dark gaze.

"You will _not_ mark me, Miss Swan, you will _not_-"

She slams her hips down into the blonde's again, eliciting another choked gasp

"- treat me with anything other that respect! Just because _you_ like things rough doesn't mean you may manhandle me, unlike_ you_, I don't wish to be _rut_ like a _dog_ in the _street_"

Green eyes flash angrily, but slip closed a moment later when the pink velvet of the Mayor's tongue finds her jaw and licks away the ugly red smear there; breaking up the movement to suck hard at the pale neck below her, teeth chaffing delicate skin as she continues

"But _you_ do, don't you dear? You like for it to hurt.._.ah_... oh so good... Am I right? ...hmm?"

The Mayor's words are sporadic, broken by her nips to the Sheriff's flesh, and the struggle for breath as she grinds herself against the blonde with greater earnest. Emma simply replies by letting out a shuddering breath and stroking her fingers feverently over the bare skin of Regina's back. She takes care not to graze the slightly sweaty flesh with her nails, her hands dancing with a gentleness she wasn't aware she possessed.

"You like for it to be _dirty_... for it to be _messy_..."

She continues her sloppy ministrations up the blonde's neck- erasing the trail of spilt blood- mounting onto her chin and licking and kissing the Sheriff's face wetly, occasionally pressing a harsh kiss to swollen lips

"Because you _are_ dirty aren't you, Miss Swan? You're _filthy_..."

Any other time and the words would make her want to vomit with their cheap cliche, but as she rides the woman beneath her and whispers the words into hot, wanton flesh she feels herself coming closer and closer to the brink, and the hoarse half-moans leaving the blonde's mouth are only too telling. She releases the hand still tangled in Emma's hair and trails it down between them, playing it momentarily over the younger woman's lace covered mound before roughly yanking the damp fabric to the side and slipping two fingers easily into the blonde's entrance. Emma's eyes shoot open from their lust-induced half-mast and she cries out, only to have the sound swallowed by the brunette's mouth.

Regina chuckles and begins a slow rhythm with her fingers, the blonde's leg trembling under the weight of her body but still continuing her own ministrations valiantly, if a little awkwardly

"_Filthy_... what do you suppose people would think... their Sheriff lying on her back with her legs spread, _liquored up_ and letting herself be touched like this?... What do you think your_ sweet_ little housemate would make of it? If she really knew what her lovely... little girl liked to get up to?"

"Shu- _ah_- shut up"

Regina grins, wondering if she's hit a nerve, but with the way the blonde has her head thrashed to the side, eyes shut as she continues to pant and move her hips- as much as is possible in their current position- in accordance to the Mayor's fingers, it makes it impossible to say. The brunette wonders if it is merely a form of defiant habit and grins wickedly

"Why? Am I _wrong_?... don't you go claiming innocence now, Sheriff... like this... you like it when I _fuck_ you"

A low groan and Regina smirks victoriously before a ruthlessly strong leg suddenly hooks around hers and she suddenly finds herself toppling ungracefully off the sofa onto her back. A bone-cracking thunk and she feels the floor next to her reverberate as the Sheriff's kneecaps connect painfully either side of her, a sudden weight crushing her stomach warmly.

Blonde tresses trail above her like vines, casting the the Sheriff's face in shadow, but not so much that the Mayor can't make out the telling gleam of white teeth grinning maliciously above her. She attempts to throw Emma off her, but the blonde is strong and keeps her position easily. Regina gradually resists her urge to struggle, having to suffice with merely glaring petulantly up into that striking flash of teeth. Once the brunette stills, the Sheriff finally leans in closer, her hair falling softly over the Mayor's skin, devouring her, and whispers raspily into the older woman's ear.

"That's right... I do"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **_And another instalment- woohoo! This fic has ended up taking a lot of twists and turns I hadn't originally planned on so I hope you are all enjoying these little scenes. At some point, Emma is going to have to make her way home, but until then, while I have these two together, please feel free to leave any requests or prompts. Also, please just review in general! I have really appreciated the comments that have been left so far, and, not that I wish to blackmail you all, but they really DO make me eager to write more!_

_"That's right... I do"_

Regina lets out a low groan of approval as the blonde drags her nails- feather light- over the taught skin of her abdomen, raising a trail of goose-bumps in their wake. Silken gold whispers maddeningly over olive skin as Emma lowers her attention to the Mayor's chest. The brunette sighs as she feels a soft puff of air brush teasingly over a pebbled nipple, before the blonde takes the hardened nub wetly into her mouth, coating her prize and the surrounding flesh with hot moisture. She releases the tender flesh slowly before blowing down once more- her breath turning the glistening wetness instantly cold. She smirks to herself as the supple form beneath her shudders and dips the warm velvet of her tongue back to flesh and drags a hot, wet path to Regina's other breast.

The Mayor moans gently and drinks in the hypnotic waves of cornsilk that trail over her as the Sheriff continues her ministrations. The softly defined vertebra at the top of the blonde's spine ripple pleasantly beneath pale skin, curving out to beautifully slim shoulders, but her face remains hidden behind the curtain of her hair. Regina extends her hand to move the soft curls out of the way- wanting to see the younger woman's face and the pink flash of her tongue- but Emma catches her hand deftly and forces it none to gently to rest above her head. The Sheriff reaches for its twin and repeats the motion, holding slender wrists captive as she moves to hover her lips above the brunette's, casting them both into near darkness as blonde tresses tumble over them like a shroud.

"Uh, uh- no touching"

"But... I _want_ to"

The Mayor's tone is almost petulant; not used to being told 'no', and Emma gives a throaty chuckle as she keeps them in their shadowed prison

"What a shame then, Madame Mayor, that you can't... always... get... what...you... want"

She alternates her words with deep kisses, before capturing Regina's lips completely and savoring the ghostly taste of apples that still lingers between them like a secret. The brunette huffs and twitches her wrists in the blonde's firm grasp, more on principle than with any real exerted effort towards being rewarded with release. Emma smiles and licks delicately at the Mayor's earlobe before whispering in the pink shell dangerously; her voice low with warning

"My handcuffs are in my coat pocket, don't make me use them"

Regina instantly relents her half-assed struggling and lies perfectly still under the warm weight of the blonde. Recognizing submission, Emma places a final kiss to the Mayor's jaw before manouvering herself agilely to kneel between the brunette's legs. Regina strains her neck up to watch her, but that maddening mass of hair still hides her pretty, heightened features as Emma casts her attention down, almost contemplatively. With clinical efficiency, she hooks two fingers into the waistband of the Mayor's silken underwear and drags the fabric down with torturous slowness. When she reaches the barrier the swell of the brunette's backside creates against the cold, stone floor, she slips a hand in the space created by the curve at the small of the older woman's back and guides her to lift her hips just a little. With the garment free, she slides it easily down the Mayor's legs and casts it absently behind her.

Regina feels her breath catch in her throat as the blonde studies her silently, letting it shakily out when delicate hands push at her thighs gently to open her up fully. Slim fingers flutter gently over the insides of her thighs, skimming teasingly into the edges of her neat, dark curls, before they travel back up to her raised knees as the blonde dips her head, her intent clear, and the Mayor finds her head spinning slightly as she struggles to comprehend the current situation.

She finds she doesn't really give much of a fuck how they got here once that teasingly soft breath ghosts over her warm, exposed flesh.

"_Fuck_"

"Didn't anyone ever tell you to be patient?"

The Sheriff murmurs, her lips brushing the sensitive flesh at Regina's core while she muses, causing the older woman's breath to hitch.

The first few swipes of her tongue are softly experimental in their intimacy as Emma breathes in the warm scent of the Mayor. Dipping her tongue deeper between the brunette's folds she feels just how wet the other woman really is and travels up to pull the swollen bundle of nerves waiting for her into her mouth. Regina cries out and is only just able to stop herself as she instinctively moves to pull the Sheriff closer to her. Instead she pushes her hips up wantonly, sighing as she is rewarded with another hard swipe of velvet.

Emma continues her ministrations, setting her pace to match the quivering movements of the brunette's pelvis, dragging a hand slowly down the Mayor's slick thigh and dipping her finger into Regina's entrance; corkscrewing up to find the place that results in a guttural groan up above her. She quickens her movements as the slim legs to her sides begin to spasm tellingly, using her free hand to finally brush her hair away from her face.

Regina looks back down and catches green eyes flashing up to find her own as the blonde increases the pressure of her mouth, thrusting her fingers with ruthless vigour. She drops her head back with a cry, feeling the warm fingers of ecstasy begin to radiate out from her core. The Sheriff circles her fingers once more before they are drenched in sweet nectar and the brunette clamps her legs tightly around her shoulders as she hisses out a choked string of curse words.

Eventually the vice-like grip of Regina's thighs loosens; her limbs dropping weakly to the floor, leaving her spent and exposed as she catches her breath, one arm flung gingerly over her eyes. When she trusts herself with coherent thought, she gingerly regains her vision and props herself up onto her elbows to take in the blonde. Emma kneels patiently before her, eyes dark and hair forming a crazed mane, falling heavily over her pale form; naked but for the thin strip of lace that still remains. Locking eyes with the dark woman spread before her she lifts her glistening fingers to her mouth and licks them clean with an absurd display of etiquette.

The brunette reaches out, pulling the younger woman back down on top of her and dragging those wicked fingers from bruised lips. She moves them to her own mouth and tastes the combined wetness of her sex and Emma's tongue. She is vaguely aware that the fire has burned away to nothing; Emma's eyes glittering back at her feverishly in the semi-darkness.

Regina relinquishes Emma's fingers and struggles to get up, pushing past the blonde who remains knelt where she is, her face carefully neutral as she watches the Mayor's nude form retreat towards the door. She feels a stab of irritation, quickly drowned by sickening awkwardness as Regina leans down to gather her discarded garments from floor before pulling her coat from the hook that hangs on the back of the solid oak door. Emma feels color flushing across her cheeks as she stands up stiffly- knees protesting painfully over their ordeal on the stone floor- and walks to the door, feeling suddenly exposed. She holds one hand primly across her chest as she holds out her other hand to take her clothes from the Mayor. Regina smirks and flips her hair back in a way that shouldn't command the authority it does given the fact she remains completely naked.

"Put out your hands, Miss Swan"

"What?"

The blonde's tone is familiarly irritable, and the Mayor suspects that, had she not been blushing bare, there would have been an eye-roll thrown in for good measure. Regina ignores the Sheriff's mediocre attempt at nonchalance and simply taps her bare foot impatiently as she regards the younger woman as if bored. Finally Emma removes the hand attempting to provide her with belated modesty and lets it hover next to the other before her; raising an eyebrow in question at the irksome brunette.

"Good girl"

Regina drops the clothes in her arms with liquid speed- knowing that without the element of surprise, the blonde's physical strength will surpass her own- and the Sheriff is vaguely aware of a gleam of silver and a metallic click, before the Mayor pushes her roughly against the door, forcing her arms up to extend almost painfully before stepping away just as quickly as she'd come at her.

"_What the hell?_!"

Emma moves to lunge at her but yelps as sharp pain bites down her arms. She looks up above her to see her wrists encased in twin circlets of silver, fastened by a chain over the elaborately curved hook of the door. She recognizes her restraints instantly and growls at the woman that would have the audacity to use her own damn handcuffs to render her helpless.

"_Un-cuff me!_"

"I don't think so, dear"

Plump lips lift into a sadistic smile. The blonde stretches up onto her toes in an attempt to unhook herself from the tricky metal curve nailed to the door, but its shape is such that what is slipped over the maddening spiral with relative ease is much trickier to remove.

"Come on, Regina, I can't get my hands over the fucking twist at the top"

The Mayor laughs merrily, shaking her head as if Emma has just told a particularly amusing anecdote.

"Do you not think, Miss Swan, that that is entirely the idea?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **_Sorry for the delay- but here's the next chapter. After this chapter I'm looking for prompts of where to take this so please pitch in. For those interested this was written while listening to 'Violent- by Concrete Blonde'. Please, please, please comment!_

Regina perches leisurely on the backrest of the sofa, her face cast in shadow as twilight filters softly into the room. She runs a finger repetitively over her bottom lip as if in thought; delicate features serene as she takes in the scene before her.

The tranquility of the moment is not shared by the Sheriff, who lets out a sharp yelp as the crude metal of the handcuffs bites into her struggling flesh. After the first five minutes of swearing, rationalizing, and then swearing again, the blonde has given up appealing to the darker woman, and now instead just focuses her attention on the hook rendering her helpless; neck straining as she directs her anger up at the traitorous steel spiral.

The determination the younger woman exhibits is fascinating, but the brunette is tiring of the silence, filled only with the occasional exasperated huff. She is not a woman who appreciates being ignored. What she_ does_ appreciate is the way the Sheriff twists and turns her body in her attempts to free herself; her captured arms forcing her to stretch upwards and the muscles of her stomach to flex tantalizingly in the dim purple light of dusk.

"Fuck this!"

The Mayor winces as the blonde resorts to simply yanking on the cuffs as hard as she possibly can, tutting as she thinks of the pretty pale flesh of skinny wrists becoming broken and bruised. She pushes herself off the couch and stalks over to her victim, who, if anything, wrestles at the restraints all the more vigorously upon her approach.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Miss Swan, but I believe your wrists will give in before those cuffs will"

"Yeah? Well we're about to find out"

Regina swiftly moves to stand directly opposite Emma, forcing the struggling young woman to look at her. She wants to have her fun with the pretty blonde, and, if she's been reading Emma correctly so far, a little struggle and a little roughness will enhance the Sheriff's pleasure. What she doesn't want is for Emma to hurt herself doing something stupid. If she is to be in pain, Regina wishes to be its cause directly.

"Really, dear, why pretend you're not enjoying this?"

"No need to pretend, I'm_ not_ enjoying this!"

Green eyes glare down at her angrily and the near darkness that cloaks the room only adds to the mood. The Mayor studies her conquest with vague curiosity. Beneath the rage written all over Emma's face is something softer. At first she had mistaken it for playful pretense, but on reflection it looks almost like fear. Interesting.

"Are you sure?"

She adopts a syrupy-sweet tone, hoping to get another glimpse at the small indent created at the left side of the Sheriff's mouth when trying not to crack into a smile. The blonde remains stoic however, and merely shakes her impressive mane.

"I don't _like_ being cuffed"

Her voice is gruff and stern as if scolding the brunette for such idiocies, but the Mayor can't remember the last time she witnessed someone ready to skin their wrists raw just because they didn't feel like playing a silly little game. Regina feels a small wave of irritation and discomfort when she realizes the real reason why the blonde is less then thrilled at her predicament. One's past can be a bitch at times. She keeps her enlightenment to herself, however; she still wants to play out this scene, wants to test just how much willpower the younger woman possesses.

"Well, if you want me to let you down, all you need to do is ask"

"Fine. Let me down"

"Oh come now, what's the magic word?"

"Fuck you, Regina"

"...Well that's _definitely_ not how to go about getting your way"

She strokes a red lacquered finger softly over a flushed cheek, earning another scowl from the Sheriff. At their close proximity and given the situation, the dark thunder that flashes in those eyes is intoxicating. Exciting. She lets her eyes wonder down over the taught, strained muscles of the blonde's torso; stomach firm and tight, her breasts displayed most flatteringly in her forced stance. The red of the lace that still encases Emma's sex is dulled by the creeping darkness, and it becomes a shadow; a secret.

Regina lets her tongue run slowly over her bottom lip as she takes in the full picture the Sheriff creates. She can well imagine the feisty woman's distaste at finding herself in cuffs once more. She thinks back to her previous musings as to Emma's time spent behind bars and envisages the blonde just as pale, just as bare, in those harsh surroundings. She imagines luscious hair and pretty complexion to be deceiving however; there is something hard in the blonde; bitter- like biting down on tinfoil- and she would put money on it that the young woman before her had played not the hunted, but the _huntress._

_It's not the cuffs you don't like, it's the being caught. Being the 'bitch'... Because before now, you decided on the rules. You controlled the game. You were Queen. Well not anymore, sweetheart._

She can't deny there is something utterly arousing at the thought of a younger, callower version of Storybrooke's pretty little Sheriff demanding and forcing her desires from the weak, doe-eyed girls she had been incarcerated with. Her mind momentarily flashes with the image of the blonde holding a shiv to a faceless brunette's throat and stealing a kiss from her deeply before forcing the girl down between her legs. The logical specimen within the Mayor imagines she has a ludicrously pornographic idea of women's prisons, but she allows herself to hope nonetheless.

And she can't speak for the Emma, but this situation just got hot as hell.

"If you want something from_ me,_ _you're_ going to have to offer me something in return"

"I'm pretty sure I've already given you something"

The blonde growls at her. Regina grins wickedly, feeling the warmth between her legs increase at the memory of the Sheriff's expert tongue. She takes a step closer to the blonde, closing the space between them and relishes in the anger bestowed upon her by those haunting eyes. She wraps her arms around Emma's slender waist and whispers low in her ear

"And you were fucking good at it... tell me... how _does_ one become so adept at using their tongue?... To be honest, my dear, I never figured you for a submissive... but then, I bet life was a lot easier last time you wore those pretty, _pretty_ silver bracelets if you were happy to take it on your knees"

At her low, sultry declaration the blonde lunges forward; all teeth. Regina steps away swiftly, chuckling at the animalistic anger in her Sheriff's eyes. She recognizes the need to tread carefully; she wants Emma on the verge of losing it, but she doesn't want to push her over the edge. She knows the blonde is strong- stronger than most- but everyone has their line to cross, and she has no intention to spend the evening offering condolences and comfort. Fortunately, she knows Emma to be the last person to accept them.

Closing the distance between them once more she grazes the Sheriff's neck with her teeth until the latter reluctantly throws her head back to allow the onslaught of attention to the pale skin of her throat. The brunette bites her experimentally- already having discovered the reward her sharp nips garner- listening out for the areas that cause a distinct hitch of breath or purr from the blonde. As her mouth works delicate skin, her hands once more encompass Emma's waist before traveling down to grab her ass crudely. Possessively.

"All you have to do is say 'please'..."

She murmurs in the blonde's ear; pulling away the thick golden curls that impede her breath as she whispers. Emma retaliates by throwing her head to the side, shying away from Regina's lips in a way that makes the Mayor chuckle.

"Don't be so proud, dear"

She finds the blonde's lips as she speaks; not willing to buy into the charade the younger woman exhibits. Her probing tongue is met with resilience, as soft lips press together firmly, denying her entrance. The brunette refuses to be deterred... she _will_ get the Sheriff to beg.

Deft fingers trace over delicate red lace once more as Regina continues to kiss and lick at resisting lips. As she runs her hands over the younger woman's pale frame, she can feel the tremble of fine muscle beneath her palms; the position the blonde has been forced into taking its toll on aching arms.

Attention wandering downwards, she runs her fingers softly over the small dip created by the Sheriff's sex- poking a finger within damp fabric between slick folds- and is rewarded with a soft groan into her neck.

Hooking a finger into the delicate lace she drags downwards, dragging the panties slowly over the swell of the blonde's ass, after which they fall to the floor with a flourish.

"Fuck"

Her lip catches between her teeth as she takes in the flesh revealed. The pale skin underneath her wandering eyes is bare in more ways than one and the Mayor hums appreciatively against Emma's collarbone, her eyes refusing to leave the sight so recently uncovered.

"_Beautiful"_

Emma shudders against her as she whispers into her neck, a small, broken sound escaping her throat as she grips the hateful chain of the handcuffs in desperate hands.

"Let me down, Regina"

Her quiet request is met with a smirk as two fingers slide once more into the hot wetness of her entrance and the blonde cries out softly into a mass of chestnut hair. Regina moves her fingers faster and faster, deliciously aware of the way the Sheriff trembles against her.

"All you need to do is ask nicely"

She can feel the muscles of the blonde's core flutter against her intrusive fingers as the palm of her hand grinds purposefully against the younger woman's clit, but still she is refused a response. Working her fingers to a rapid blur, she bites down on a quivering clavicle, savoring the slightly salted taste as pale legs tremble dangerously.

"Just one little word, Sheriff"

The panting in her ear moistens her hair and she grins as a soft keening sound begins to her left. She works her assaulting hand violently, while the other arm wraps around the sinking form before her, catching the blonde just as her body goes limp with pleasure; pulling the sweat-slick limbs closer to hers and kissing the younger woman deeply

"Say it..."

Emma feels her knees buckle dangerously as her entire being feels set alight and moans desperately into the soft, waiting flesh of the brunette's neck. The pleasure is so intense it becomes painful as she struggles to keep herself upright to avoid ravaging her wrists on the cruel steel above her. The arm tightly embracing her waist feels firm; protective, but she knows Regina better than to believe the aiding limb will remain in place for much longer without encouragement.

_Fuck it if she thinks I'm going to beg_

As the thought flashes scarlet across her brain, the fingers working their delicious magic between her legs begin to corkscrew and her knees tremble dangerously. She can feel the waves of ecstasy threatening to carry her into oblivion and begins to pant harshly in time with the thrust of the brunette;s expert hand. She wants to shut it out and deny the older woman the pleasure of victory, but she can feel herself become rapidly undone.

A soft lick from her sternum to her jaw cinches the moment and she cries out as her muscles flutter around the fingers buried deep within her sex, begging the beautiful brunette to catch her as she falls

"Oh, _fuck!._.. Please... I can't... I ... _please_"

Regina tightens her grip at Emma's waist, keeping her from collapsing down in fear of the blonde ripping the skin of her wrists. As the quaking of the lithe body against her own begins to subside, she gently strokes her fingers up and down the sex-slick expanse of the blonde's spine.

"Shhhh"

She runs her hands into luxurious waves of golden silk, cupping the blonde's head to her shoulder as she feels harsh, exhausted breath expelled against her skin. As the fluttering of air becomes softer and regular she gives one final squeeze before tugging at the pale curls in her hand, before releasing them and wordlessly stepping away from the spent, lithe body of the Sheriff.

"Just one little word, Emma"

The blonde looks up slowly at the use of her first name and sighs as soft hands find her face once more; caressing her cheek delicately.

"...Please"

There is an audible click as Regina deftly turns the silver key within the Sheriff's retrains, and a metallic thud as they fall to the floor. The Mayor grabs at the blonde's abused wrists as the latter begins to rub at them, attempting to bring back the circulation. The brunette studies the abused flesh thoughtfully before pulling the blonde into a rough kiss once more while her fingers work the reddened flesh gently.

"See... that wasn't so hard"

Green eyes flicker dark coals heavily; with lust and hate she chuckles as she offers the younger woman a violent kiss that is eagerly reciprocated.

"Fuck you, Regina"

"Please...Sheriff"


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **_Sorry about the wait on this one, but hey, Emma finally gets her own back so I wanted to do it right. Please review- feed my comment-crack habit. _

* * *

_Green eyes flicker up at her own dark coals, heavy with lust and hate and she chuckles as she offers the younger woman a violent kiss that is eagerly reciprocated._

_"Fuck you, Regina"_

_"Please...Sheriff"_

The brunette smirks as she continues stroking soft blonde hair smugly, ready to make a smart quip about the Sheriff's high sex drive given her wording. She never get's a chance for her chosen retort to be vocalized however, as the air is suddenly knocked rudely from her lungs. With a yelp of surprise- not to mention a small helping of pain- Regina finds herself being grabbed by the upper arms with bruising force and spun unceremoniously to be shoved against the hard wood of the door.

The blonde's face- once she's whipped away the veil of her hair- is alight with anger, and her flashing teeth hold no hint of their previous long-suffering, yet playful smirk. The Mayor drinks this new version of the Sheriff in warily, sensing an air of danger about the younger woman which is both tantalizing and a little unnerving.

"Is there a problem, Sheriff?"

"I told you to let me down!"

Emma's voice comes as low thunder that strikes the Mayor directly in her core, despite the force with which she presses her forearm to Regina's slender neck; pinning her in place. The brunette smirks disdainfully at the blonde panting hotly in her face, refusing to let the growing concern as to her current lack of oxygen play across her face.

"And so I did dear, once you were good and showed me some manners..."

She hates the strained quality of her voice but the Sheriff seems barely to have even heard her. Strong fingers dig mercilessly into the soft flesh of her arms once more and Regina finds herself being thrown forcefully into centre of the room. She loses her footing when she tries to avoid slamming into the coffee table, gripping uselessly at plush fabric for purchase as she lands ungracefully on her knees between the sofa and table. The look she throws behind her at the blonde comprises of sheer shock; the brutality shown towards her something she is completely virgin to.

"What the _hell_ do you think you-"

"_I told you I didn't like being cuffed!_"

In the impending darkness, Emma casts an eery figure- luminescently pale- and her stance is aggressive. Predatory. Never before has the Mayor wished quite so desperately for the warming security of her powers.

"Miss Swan, I-"

"-Shut up"

Regina blinks up at the sharp command in disbelief, turning on her knees awkwardly to fully face the blonde, but remaining down in her position for the time being; wretchedly unsure about the current turn of events. Despite witnessing the brunette's doubtful submission, Emma doesn't bat an eyelid. She is sure the older woman is expecting a smirk, a smile, some form of recognition to their switch in positions... but this isn't about that. She had expressed her displeasure to being strung up and rendered helpless, and knows full well that the Mayor has an understanding as to why she would be so distraught at finding herself in such a predicament.

_If she wants to play dirty, then so be it. Let her see how much she really likes this fucked up version of role-play._

Emma throws her a look of such venom that the brunette remains frozen in place. There is something hard- metallic- in her normally intelligent eyes, and she kicks at the fallen cuffs that shimmer at her feet disgustedly. Stalking slowly to the discarded heap of her coat, she shucks it over her naked form before turning back to the older woman still on her knees on the hard, stone floor. The blonde walks towards her lazily, relishing the way those dark, chocolate eyes glisten up at her, displaying an inward war of wariness and want. Upon reaching the brunette, Emma simply stalks past her, plucking the near-empty carafe of cider from the table and taking it with her to perch on the lacquered top of the Mayor's desk. The latter turns again to face her, and can't stop the visible shiver of lust as the blonde tips the cider to her lips, purposefully allowing it to trickle not just into her mouth but in sweet freshets down the pale skin of her throat too.

The Sheriff casts a strangely regal sillouhette; her bare form covered only by the coarse fabric of her parka, the hood pulled up to cast her features into shadow beneath the fur trim, the tracks made down her neck and chest by the cider glistening temptingly. She crosses one leg over the other to hide her sex, and watches as the brunette sits warily back on her heels; still not quite daring to get up from her lowered position. The fact that the blonde's eyes are hidden in the darkness cast by her coat- leaving just the bruised sneer of her lips- causes Regina to feel the need to tread very carefully indeed.

"Miss Swan..."

The Sheriff presses a slender finger warningly against her own lips, although her expression remains unreadable. Despite it going against every fibre of her being, Regina lets her voice trail off into silence. The blonde allows the tension to build wordlessly between them a little while longer before removing her finger from her mouth and dipping into the deep pocket of her coat. Finally, her hand resurfaces, its bounty instantly recognizable for what it is.

She knows she can't actually _use_ the gun. Not for this game. Regina knows full well that the Sheriff would never shoot her, and so the blonde's bluff would be too easily called. But for the brief moment in which she holds the cool steel and the Mayor's eyes flicker nakedly up at her, she feels like a god. In fact, she feels the way she imagines Regina felt when seeing her strung up in those silver cuffs... and this is a very particular form of power play. The Mayor made it so; not just by using the cuffs, but by whispering those hateful things about the blonde's time spent behind bars while keeping her tethered like a lamb for sacrifice.

_Let's see how badly she really wants to know about that life._

"Get up. Get up and come here."

Emma gives a faint upwards jerk of the gun to accompany her words, but her fingers remain wrapped around the butt; nowhere near the trigger. As Regina cautiously pushes herself up, the blonde places the gun carefully to her side and simply waits as the brunette makes her way over. Once the Regina stands a couple of feet before her, she uncrosses her legs and lets her feet touch down on the cool slabs of the floor; gaining back her height advantage. She beckons the Mayor with a crook of her finger and waits patiently as the older woman closes the distance between them once more.

Regina moves to caress the soft skin beneath Emma's coat cautiously. There is a dangerous charge in the atmosphere, and this newly discovered side to the Sheriff is making her extremely nervous. But with those nerves comes an aching heat between her legs as the adrenaline coursing through her in response to the younger woman's actions makes her deliciously light-headed. Her wrist is caught instantly as it reaches to embrace the taught stomach peeping through the dark fabric of Emma's coat, and she gives a small grunt as she is quickly spun so that her hips collide painfully with the edge of the table; the blonde now stood behind her, breathing onto the exposed skin of her neck as she keeps hold of the Mayor's wrist at an awkward angle.

"I'm going to let go, and you're going to put your hands down, flat on the table. Both of them. Slowly."

It's a low murmur in her ear and Regina nods silently, apprehensively curious to see where this is going. True to Emma's word, her wrist is released from its painful hold behind her back, and she brings it down so that her hand rests parallel to the other on the hard surface of the desk. The blonde praises the action huskily and leans over the exposed form of the Mayor to snatch up something from across the table in a glitter of silver; her legs brushing distractingly against the smooth skin at the backs of the brunette's thighs in the process.

"Now push all this shit off the table"

Regina rolls her eyes, despite her predicament, the request too reminiscent of badly scripted secretary porn. Her failure to comply is swiftly reprimanded however, and she gives a shocked gasp as slender fingers wind quickly into her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. The chilling sensation that follows of metal on flesh sparks her first real flicker of fear, and she gasps once more as the blonde presses the sharp edge of the steel letter-opener more forcefully against the fragile skin beneath her jaw.

"Oh my God"

"Most people just call me Emma"

There is little humor present in the Sheriff's tone despite her contrary quip, and she keeps the cold steel in place, offsetting its chill as her heat presses firmly against the Mayor's backside. Regina closes her eyes, overwhelmed with how this situation is affecting her; she is both ridiculously aroused, while at the same time becoming more and more unsure of her safety at the blonde's hands.

"Let's try listening, shall we?"

A purposeful dig with the sharp point of the instrument to her throat and the brunette shudders as for the first time she feels pain. She removes her hands from their rigid position on the table top- leaving behind two crescents of sweat from her palms- and sweeps the various papers and documents from the large desk in one smooth motion. It doesn't go unnoticed by either of them that Emma's gun is amongst the items to hit the floor- making a hollow clunk as it lands- but the blonde seems to pay the loss of her weapon little mind. Her attention remains on the implement currently pressed to the Mayor's jugular.

"Good"

She speaks the word into the salted skin of the Mayor's neck; not quite kissing, but letting her lips brush teasingly against flesh.

"Now get up onto the table. On your back"

Emma steps away just enough to allow the brunette room to comply, and the latter can't help but feel a slight pang of disappointment at the loss of contact between her flushed skin and the blonde's. A part of her seethes angrily at the Sheriff's gall in demanding her way; not used to following orders in any circumstance. The rest of her- the part that craves release from the ache the younger woman has been expertly nurturing between her legs- is eager to comply, and she lets this latter part win out.

Gracefully moving the the edge of the desk, Regina hoists herself up onto the cold, flat surface before shimmying quickly so she's a little closer to the centre before reclining onto her back. The desk is large, and allows for the lip at the edge to comfortably support the drape of her legs to the knee, while still giving her enough room above her head that her upper body is completely supported. She lets her hands dangle off to the sides and hopes her chest isn't too flushed with obvious arousal. She isn't sure exactly what to expect, but when the blonde makes no immediate move, she cranes her neck up curiously to see Emma running the steel point of the letter-opener thoughtfully over her bottom lip.

_Dear God, I will never be able to look at that thing again without getting aroused_

The Sheriff removes the sharp implement from her lips and resumes her silent observation, the brunette becoming unnerved once more as she still can't make out the younger woman's eyes beneath her hood.

"I told you I didn't like being cuffed"

Regina sighs; boring of this monotonous line of conversation. Once more she fishes for a fitting comeback, but only gets so far as rolling her eyes before she is accosted with the sharp prick of the letter-opener, this time against the taught skin of her hip bone. She quietens instantly, forcing herself to remain still. The dangerous steel gently drags up her stomach to play across her ribs; hard enough to leave slow reddening lines in its wake but careful not to cut. Emma takes in the distinct increase in the Mayor's breath- coming now at what is almost a pant- and allows herself a small smile.

"You said you wouldn't ask me how I got my scar if I didn't want to tell you... perhaps, I want to _show_ you"

Regina instantly makes to call an end to the charade, her arousal now overshadowed by her fear, but a warning jab from the metal currently skimming the underneath of her left breast leaves her frozen in place. At a pace that is cruelly slow, the sharp point of the letter-opener drags back down the valley of her breasts before lingering to the side to graze over her ribs. When Emma reaches the place on the brunette's torso where the scar mars her own flesh she increases the force with which she presses the blade into the Mayor's skin, leaving a clear, red line to mirror her own. Easing up the pressure as she reaches the point just above the brunette's navel, she erases any memory of the pain as she continues grazing the cool steel down Regina's stomach to skim into the neat curls at her mound before letting it whisper momentarily against her glistening wetness and leaving a thin trail of her arousal down her inner thigh.

"Fuck"

Regina groans as the blonde wipes the blade free of the Mayor's juices on her thigh before stalking round to the end of the table at which the Mayor's head rests. Looking up into the shadow of the blonde's hood, the brunette can finally make out her eyes, and the hard lust in them just about pushes her over the edge.

"I'm sorry"

She's not sure if she really means it, but its the only sensical thing that comes to mind, and she imagines its what Emma has been waiting for. She doesn't really care either way, she just needs release.

"No you're not. But you _will_ be"

With that the blonde clambors up onto the table, resting so that she straddles the brunette's chest; restricting her breath. Regina gasps, the position offering her a spectacular view, but causing her lungs to feel as though they're on fire. Emma runs the flesh-warmed blade lightly over the Mayor's lips, leaving behind the faint flavor of metal and lust, before leaning down to sample some for herself. The matted fur of the hood that still engulfs her brushes teasingly over the brunette's hair and face and is heavy with the smell of rain.

Once the Regina's eyes slip closed, the Sheriff manoeuvres herself with a peculiar sense of grace. She travels up the body of the Mayor until she kneels, hovering, above the darker woman's lips; the toggles of her coat dragging lightly over hot flesh as she moves.

_And Parkas, I will never be able to look at parkas the same way..._

"Show me you're sorry"

Emma's voice still holds a detached brittleness that makes her command impossible to deny. Not that the Mayor has any intention to do so. She runs her hands up the smooth skin of the blonde's thighs and presses her palms gently but pointedly against the taught muscles that line their insides; communicating that the younger woman should spread her legs wider to bring her lower. The Sheriff complies, stretching easily, and bringing her heat closer to the brunette's waiting mouth. Regina fastens her grip on the blonde's thighs and begins to run her tongue teasingly over glistening folds.

As the blonde's breathing becomes broken and irregular, the Mayor pulls her down completely; nuzzling, eating and biting until she feels lightheaded with lack of air and the taught muscles beneath her palms begin to flex sporadically and the hot flesh she tortures begins to spasm.

Emma rides out her pleasure with her weight on her knees, rising up just slightly to allow the woman beneath her to breathe as deft fingers stroke at the hot flesh of her thighs beautifully. Once she gains control of her muscles, she swings easily off the desk and returns the gaze of the dark eyes glittering up at her. She bends down to taste herself on the lips of the brunette still spread like a prize over the desk and gently flutters her fingers down over lust-hooded eyes in a silent request that the Mayor keep them closed.

Regina complies all too happily. She can feel her wetness coating the insides of her thighs; the act of tasting the younger woman more arousing than she would have believed. Her skin still burns with the memory of the blade, but despite her vague discomfort at not being able to place where she suspects the blonde to be within the room, she is certain she will come to no harm. Finally, after what seems like hours, soft lips brush hers once more before the Sheriff murmurs in her ear.

"Perhaps you should cover yourself up, _dear_"

The Mayor's eyes shoot open and she sits up to see the blonde fully dressed turning for the door.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"Going home; it stopped raining about an hour ago"

"_But_-"

"Goodnight, Regina"

She smiles sweetly and gives a small wave of her hand as though bidding a good friend farewell, but this in itself reeks of malice. The Mayor jumps angrily to her feet; her sex hot and wanting and her mind reeling.

"Miss Swan! If_ you_ think-"

But the door swings briskly shut as the blonde leaves in a flurry of curls and coat. Brutally aware of her nude state, the Mayor stops herself as she makes to ensnare the contemptuous little harlot by any means necessary. Breathing heavy and cheeks scarlet with rage she clenches her fists and lets out a choked string of curse words. As she turns to slam her fist down onto the table, she catches a gleam of silver peaking up at her from the darkness and moves hesitantly forward to pick up the Sheriff's forgotten gun. Twisting the cool metal in her hands, her pleasently full lips form a sinful grin; her body glowing in the moonlight.

"I suppose you'll be wanting this back... well I'll be sure to pop round to return it to you, dear"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **_And a small, awkward interlude. Man, damn those morning afters ;). I'm unsure at the moment whether to carry on this story or to start a new one between these two. Thought are, as always, greatly appreciated._

* * *

The Sheriff sits scrolling through the sweet but decidedly pointless text lighting up her phone in the farthest booth of the diner. Rolling her eyes in a display of irritation she doesn't truly feel she quickly taps back a reply to let Mary Margaret know that yes, she is having an okay day- although in her mind, the question seems moot when placed at eleven AM- and yes, she will be home for dinner. She wonders briefly where the hell the peculiarly doting school teacher imagines she would otherwise spend her evening but supposes she should treat the question as fair given last night's events. She cringes slightly at the memory.

_"Emma! Oh God, oh thank God!"_

_"Hey! What's up!? What's wrong?"_

_Mary Margaret pulls the blonde into an embrace so tight that the latter wonders if their entire friendship has been nothing but a ploy towards her eventual asphyxiation, before pushing her away to study her at arms length. _

_"Oh, Emma!"_

_Pale hands flutter feverishly over the damp fabric of her coat and Emma stares back at her housemate worriedly; the pallor to Mary Margaret's already pale complexion currently second in line for her concern next to the unquestionable smell of alcohol on the schoolteacher's breath, heavily noticeable due to their close proximity._

_"I'm here, what's going on? Are you ok?"_

_"Me!? Me- I'm fine! I should be asking you! Where on earth have you been? I was so worried! I came downstairs and you'd left without saying anything-"_

_"-I was working, I had to make sure no one was getting into troub-"_

_"-After you told everyone else to stay put! I guessed you might have gone out to check up on things though, so I decided to just wait it out... but when the rain stopped and you weren't back and it was getting dark and..."_

_Bright green eyes begin to well up and the blonde is terrified her housemate is going to begin bawling right here in the living room_

_"Hey! It's fine, it's fine, _I'm_ fine... I just had some car trouble is all"_

_"You went out in your goddamn car! Oh, Emma! You idiot! What if you'd come off the road?"_

_"Well... I kind of did..."_

_"What?!"_

_"Calm down! Jeez! You'd think you'd thought I was dead or something!"_

_"It's ten o'clock at night! I had no way of getting hold of you, the roads are a deathtrap, next door's window was smashed in by a flying branch which almost _decapitated_ Miss Ginger... the worst storm to hit this town in over a century and you go off to play in it! You were gone for _hours_... I just thought..."_

_Emma grunts when the air is once more forced from her lungs as Mary Margaret pulls her into a hug that says all the things she can't bare to say. The Sheriff pats her on the back awkwardly, feeling a little guilty. _

_"Hey, come on now, I'm fine. I'm sorry I took so long to get back; my car broke down ages away and I... got lost..."_

_She offers the sniffing woman a reassuring grin and turns to help herself to a now much needed shot of whisky from the bottle waiting on the island counter. She pours herself a couple of fat fingers into a tumbler plucked from the drying rack and tops up Mary Margaret's with just a half in her- well used it would appear- glass resting beside the bottle. _

_The Schoolteacher takes the proffered drink from her gladly and returns the blonde's slightly crooked grin with her own sheepish smile. She perches on one of the rickety old stools that flank the kitchen island and amiably watches her housemate shuck her sodden coat and hang it on the coat stand. The blonde goes to remove her damp sweater as well, but seems to think better of it._

_"You should take that off, you'll catch a cold. Here- I put a sweatshirt in the tumble dryer for you so it'd be warm... it's probably cooled down by now, but it'll be nicer that wearing that damp thing"_

_Emma shrugs awkwardly; overwhelmingly touched by the gesture, but not wanting to risk any curious bruises or marks being exposed to her housemate._

_"I'm good, seriously, stop fussing, I'm fine"_

_"I know you're fine; you're _always_ fine. I just thought you'd like to... what happened to your lip?"_

_Before the blonde has time to react the schoolteacher has leant over the counter to cup her face in warm hands, and gently pulls at the bruised flesh of her bottom lip with her thumb. _

_"Ouch"_

_"What happened?!"_

_The concern on the raven-headed woman's face is simply unbearable and the Sheriff pulls quickly away, tipping back the liquid that remains in her glass, before hurrying towards the ladder to her loft-room._

_"It's nothing, I just fell in the wet mud and I guess I must've bit down on my lip... it doesn't really hurt, honestly! I'm pretty damn beat though, so I'm gonna call it a night... so...umm... G'night"_

_She barely avoids falling down them in her hurry to get up the stairs and out of her housemate's studious gaze, leaving Mary Margaret to pour the rest of her drink down the drain; the schoolteacher coming to the conclusion that, without her mind throwing her hateful images of the blonde lying in a ditch every five minutes, whisky is a truly awful beverage. _

Fingers tapping over the buttons of her phone rapidly, the blonde seems wrapped up in her own little world. Her cheeks are still slightly pink from the brutal chill outside and she has swapped yesterday's parka for red leather. Her hair is freshly washed and curls bounce softly about her shoulders. Her lips are pleasantly dark with burgundy stain; an attempt to disguise the purplish bruising beneath that has actually come off rather favorably.

"Mind if I join you?"

She glances up distractedly before breaking into a grin and scooting over to make room beside her, despite the empty bench opposite.

"Hey, kid"

Henry beams up at her and makes himself at home on the slightly cramped bench. She allows him to take her phone from between her fingers and bring up one of the numerous games she has downloaded for them to play and watches with amusement as his small pink tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth in concentration. She waves over to Ruby who comes trotting over on sky-scraper heels with teeth bared in a blindingly white grin.

"Emma, what can I get you?"

"Fetch this fine young man some hot chocolate"

"Hot chocolate with extra cream and marshmallows, got it... you want one too?"

"I probably shouldn't"

"_Two_ hot chocolates with extra cream, marshmallows _and_ cinnamon? Well, if you say so"

She winks at the blonde, who rolls her eyes before offering a funny little salute, and sashays lazily over to the kitchen to start up the order.

Emma watches amiably over Henry's shoulder as he goes about collecting pixel nuggets with his ever-growing snake and gives him a couple of pointers which go cordially ignored.

"Aw, _crap_, I lost!"

"Never mind kid, there's copious sugar on its way to drown your sorrows, and don't go using that word around Regina or she'll _really_ be after my ass"

"Oh, I wouldn't presume any such interest, Miss Swan"

Emma and Henry look up simultaneously with an eerily similar expression of wary surprise as the Mayor slides easily into the booth to sit opposite them.

"Are you bothering the Sheriff, Henry?"

"Of course he's not bothering me!"

"Now, _that's_ funny, because you would _think_ that after a storm of the magnitude we experienced yesterday, the town's Sheriff would be out leading a recovery mission or sat behind her desk at the station beneath a mound of paperwork, much too busy to be chatting away to my son"

"I spent the _entire_ morning taking calls and doing paperwork, Regina, I'm entitled to lunch"

"Oh, of course you are, dear- a girl's got to eat- it was merely an observation"

The blonde scowls at the Mayor haughtily while Henry returns his attention nervously to his game. Ruby saunters over with two mugs brimming with calories and places them upon the table, glancing warily at the group's new addition.

"Would you like anything, Mayor Mills?"

"No, dear"

Regina gives a distracted wave of her hand, as if trying to rid herself of an irksome fly, and the usually chirpy waitress retreats quickly back to the service counter.

"Thanks, Ruby!"

Emma calls over from their booth, giving her an overcompensating grin, before turning back to the brunette angrily.

"Well _that_ was rude!"

The Mayor ignores her in favor of looking upon Emma's order in disbelief. The hot chocolate the waitress has brought over is easily double the regular size- whether a perk of being the Sheriff, or simply one of Ruby seeming to have taken a liking to her, the blonde can't say for sure- and slathered with fluffy white cream, fat pink marshmallows and dusted with cocoa and cinnamon.

"What is_ that_?"

"Hot chocolate"

Emma inwardly admits she feels ever so slightly sheepish staring down at the mug that requires two hands to support it, but there is no way in hell she's going to let the brunette in on this. To prove her point she swipes her finger through the lavish topping of cream and brings it to her mouth, where the darkened red of her lips contrasts with the white shockingly before licking herself clean.

The Mayor watches this little display without expression, although chocolate eyes follow every smooth flick of the blonde's sharp, pink tongue. Once the Sheriff's finger glistens cleanly, the brunette clears her throat and turns her attention to her son, plucking the phone from his fingers and placing it before Emma without offering her a second glance.

"Henry, you go take this _ridiculous_ drink back to Miz Lucas and ask her for some water"

"_But_-"

"No buts! Go on now"

Henry glowers at the brunette before casting a appealing glance at the Sheriff who offers him a sympathetic eye-roll but doesn't go so far as to fight his corner. Grumbling, he slides from the booth and walks carefully to the counter with the oversized mug, where Ruby waits with a raised eyebrow.

"_Jeez_, Regina, it's just a little hot chocolate, it wasn't going to kill him!"

The Mayor studies the blonde unamused, before curling her lip into a disdainful sneer as the latter lifts her own hot chocolate to her mouth and attempts to drink with an air of dignity. The cream messily coating her lips does little to help her cause.

"There was nothing 'little' about it, Miss Swan, and I would appreciate it if you didn't take it upon yourself to fill my son up with sugar"

"Oh, come_ on_, you couldn't just let the kid enjoy himself for once?"

"That is highly a inappropriate comment; what I do and do not allow my son to do is entirely_ my_ business, Sheriff... but I, myself, do not stoop to winning his favor with the promise of treats"

"I wasn't trying to 'win his favor'!"

"I should hope not"

Emma gives the older woman a withering look before pointedly dropping her attention to peruse her phone. She absent-mindedly shuffles her legs to the side as a Jimmy Choo heel makes contact with her muddy boot, only to have the action repeated. Frowning, but keeping her attention on the mobile in her hand she moves her feet once more only to have a slim foot encased in patent leather forced between her own. She glances up questioningly but the Mayor simply returns her scowl with a more refined version of her own.

Down below her ankles are swiftly kicked apart.

"So I trust you've been making a start on the numerous insurance claims thrown up by the storm then, Sheriff?"

"I... _uh_"

Emma looks up, startled, as the brunette slowly proceeds to caress her jean-clad calf with the toe of her shoe. She keeps her ankles awkwardly spayed apart, but instinctively slams her knees together in resistance to Regina's wandering foot.

"After all, there's a lot to be sorted out, I imagine"

"Yes, I started the relevant paperwork as soon as I got in- _oh_"

The Mayor roughly kicks at the blonde's shins once more, causing the younger woman's legs to part reflexively, but keeps her face carefully expressionless as she cocks her own leg to brush the sole of her shoe swiftly between the Sheriff's knees before letting it rest on her thigh, marveling at the slow blush creeping across Emma's cheeks.

"Good; we can't stand the risk of anyone being left... disappointed"

Regina smiles sweetly and inches her foot slyly closer to the blonde's core; the hard sole of her shoe dragging coarsely over stiff denim.

"They won't be"

Emma replies through gritted teeth as the toe of the brunette's shoe nuzzles distractingly against the zipper of her jeans.

"You seem mighty sure of yourself, Miss Swan... is that promise?"

I'm doing my- _ah_- best"

The blonde's eyes widen as the Mayor presses her foot higher; crushing the toe of the sole into the taught muscle below her navel while pushing the sharp point of her heel firmly against the younger woman's denim-clad sex.

"Is that so?"

"Yes..."

Emma hisses as the torturously sharp heel begins grinding against her deliciously. She angrily reprimands her mutinous body as it immediately responds to the brunette's ministrations; the soft cotton at her apex instantly damp and her centre throbbing warmly. She keeps her expression clinically neutral as she continues to survey the older woman before her, desperately fighting the urge to thrust her hips forward to increase the pressure where she needs it.

"Good... Come on, Henry, we're going"

The blonde's attention snaps rapidly to her left when her son approaches their booth with drooping shoulders. Struggling momentarily to access a fitting expression- her mind reeling with the constant digging against her core- she throws him a slightly shaky grin as she takes an awkward sip from her cooling hot chocolate.

"See you soon, kid, keep out of trouble"

Henry sighs and offers the Sheriff a dotingly fond smile that causes the brunette to stab her heel down with brutal force. She smirks inwardly as the younger woman bites back a cry and swiftly removes her leg, before sliding easily out of the booth.

"My son never got _into_ trouble until you came along, Sheriff"

Emma rolls her eyes at the Mayor; a gesture that would probably earn her a more agitated response if not for the scarlet tinge to her cheeks and blown-out pupils.

"Right, Sheriff, I shall be round at some point to return an item of lost property, and would appreciate it if you made yourself ...decent to receive"

She offers a nod of her head towards the Sheriff's half inside-out collar, but her pretty, plump lips pull into a smirk that is all malice.

"In the meantime, get back to work... I'd hate for anyone to be left... _unsatisfied_... by your actions"

Emma chokes abruptly on her hot chocolate; eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline.

"Are you ok?"

Henry quickly shuffles closer and gives her a companionable smack on the back, making her wince.

"Yeah, kid, I'm good; just went down the wrong way. Go catch up with your mom"

She nods over to Regina who is steadily retreating towards the diner's mucky glass door, and Henry offers her a final grin before scampering off in that direction. Wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, Emma rests her oversized mug back on the table and raises her voice to get the older woman's attention.

"I'll see you later then, Madame Mayor... And I'll be ready"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **_This is actually just the first part of this scene but it was getting incredibly long, so have posted half, at what is hopefully a reasonable stopping point. Let me know what you think :)_

* * *

Leaning easily over the ornate surface of her dressing table, the Mayor carefully applies a flawless coat of scarlet lipstick, the tone reminiscent of expensive shiraz. She muses curiously over the darkened shade favored by the blonde that afternoon at the diner; a deep burgundy which had lent her an almost vampish quality. This, and the red blossoms of the Sheriff's own blood, are the only times she has seen the younger woman with her lips painted, and there is something unnerving about the way it offsets her pale features. The brunette supposes some women, such as the irksome Swan woman, are destined to be natural beauties, while others, if the bombshell reflected back at her in the lavish mirror is anything to go by, can pull off a little heightened drama. A touch of class.

Flashing her teeth, she turns her head to the side to check none of the lipstick has wandered before offering her reflected self a sinful smirk and primping fussily at her hair. She has changed outfits since her encounter with Emma at Granny's; trading charcoal gray for satin black. The suit she wears is a piece of impeccable craftsmanship, its tailoring unfit for any inferior frame to her own. The black dress pants and matching blazer speak of wealth and luxury, while remaining carefully suited to her projected town image. The silk shirt she dons beneath, however, is creamy and ever so slightly sheer; normally not an issue when paired with nude lingerie, but the black balcony bra she wears beneath creates a tantalizing shadow.

Sitting on the plush silk throw that adorns her bed, she slips her feet smoothly into black, patent heels. There is a flutter in her stomach as she goes about preparing herself to leave that she waves easily aside. She supposes she could sit a while longer and analyze the peculiar situation in which she finds herself, but she is simply not the sort. She is perfectly comfortable within herself and therefore pays the sudden changes in her relationship with the Sheriff no mind. She detests the younger woman just as much today as she has in the weeks before. The fact that the blonde has turned out to be remarkably desirable- a fact, the brunette muses cruelly, Emma keeps a well guarded secret- is simply one redeeming feature in a minefield of flaws. As such, she simply plans to make the most of a bad situation.

Swaying easily over to the door to don her plush black overcoat a malicious smirk alights her reddened lips as she is willing to bet just about everything she owns that the blonde will not see things quite so straightforwardly.

* * *

Emma sits with her feet propped up on the weathered desk of her office, rocking precariously on the back legs of a rickety chair and nipping occasionally at the bottle of Jim Beam she grips in a white-knuckled hand. Her long hair looks as though she has spent the better part of the afternoon sticking her finger in an electrical socket as it tumbles haphazardly in every direction but the right one. In reality, it is her hands which are to blame, wriggling nervously through golden curls over and over.

The high windows that line the station's two jail cells bleed twilight and she is thankful for the fact she'd had the good sense to text Mary Margaret a good five shots ago to let the schoolteacher know she was having to stay late.

She rewards herself with a swift swig from the bottle.

She had been alright until the early afternoon; a little apprehensive, but the stubborn streak within her nature refusing to let the Mayor's coy, suggestive words intimidate her. But as the hours and minutes had ticked by with no sign of the bothersome brunette, her mind had slowly begun struggling to analyze the situation. The more she would push aside bothersome thoughts and theories, the more her stomach began to crawl with trepidation. Her body devoid of the sweet thrumming from the older woman's cider, she found herself confused and muddled in her thoughts.

At four PM she had slipped briefly from the office- eyes feverishly scanning her surroundings as she jogged to the small corner store, ready to catch Regina, as if she believed the brunette might be lying in wait to ambush her- and purchased the economy sized bottle of bourbon she now holds.

She had forbidden herself from taking more than a quick sip, due to her still being on the clock- and should the Mayor happen to walk in and smell the whisky... taste the whisky... on her breath, she doubts the end result will be pleasant- but that was two hours ago and now the bottle is halfway empty and her nerves are shot and she feels both much too warm and chilled to the bone.

"Fuck"

The logical side to her knows that she should just pack up shop and head home. The night is still fairly young and the thought of spending it finishing off the bottle she currently holds under the quietly disapproving, but always kind eye of Mary Margaret while they discuss the ins and outs of nothing in particular- a companionable act she had never partaken in before moving in to her little bedroom in the loft- is rather enticing.

The part of her that is everlastingly stubborn coupled with the warm ache between her legs keeps her balancing on the chair. She has often thought the two might be perpetually linked in her case, and imagines this to be the cause of a high proportion of the trouble she's found herself in over the years.

_Damn poster-child for hate sex._

Her lip curls at the the thought and she takes yet another sip of bourbon, wincing as the hard glass of the rim rubs against her damaged bottom lip. The fact that she could in no way get her head around what has occurred between herself and the Mayor in the sober light- well, twilight- of day only serves as one factor to her apprehension. The other is the knowledge that the brunette is most definitely out for revenge.

_Well she's already pulled the act with the damn cuffs, it'll be hard to beat that._

"Let her try"

As if on cue, she cocks her head, fox-like, to the side as a soft click sounds from down the hallway. The silence that follows is heavy and she unconsciously holds her breath to better decipher any further signs of life. After what seems to be an extortionately long time her well-trained ear picks up on the ever so faint tap of stiletto on treated stone. The interval between each stealthy click is telling of one wishing to sneak in unheard, and she has the sudden bizarre urge to hide behind the door and jump out once the brunette enters.

"Boo, bitch"

Instead she gently lowers the hovering legs of her chair to rest back upon the ground and takes a final swallow of bourbon before placing the bottle surupticiously beneath her desk. She straightens her jacket around her shoulders, pulls her black tank free of creases- while effectively dragging the neckline down by a delightful inch, allowing just a hint of cleavage- and straightens her legs to cross her feet before her on the desk once more. She gives herself a moment to pull in a deep breath before letting it out and fixing herself with a neutral, almost bored expression.

A shadow falls across the doorway, before being tainted with the pointed toe of an expensive shoe. Regina comes into view and gives the blonde a distasteful once over. The younger woman looks much the same as always; dressed like some cheap protagonist from a shitty adventure novel.

Emma notes the brunette's eyes roving over her rather clinically. She allows herself to do the same, taking in the flawless silhouette created by the Mayor's suit. It nips her in at the waist and gives her legs an almost unholy length, while dropping perfectly to show off painful looking heels. The creamy silk that glistens beneath her jacket catches the light exquisitely, and the blonde finds herself momentarily mesmerized as she tries to get a better glimpse of the black lace that forms a tantalizing shadow at the brunette's chest.

"Sheriff"

"Madame Mayor"

The blonde makes no move to get up for her guest, and Regina drops her eyes disdainfully to the mud-caked soles of leather boots. The brunette can detect the definite scent of alcohol lingering in the airless room, and weighs up the pros and cons of calling the younger woman on it. In the end she decides to let it slide, after all, she is certain that she is the cause of the Sheriff being driven to drink- at least she is _this_ afternoon- and there is something so endearingly, pathetically flattering about that.

"You said you had something of mine?"

Emma's voice is gruff, laced with disinterest in her attempt at authority. The Mayor wonders if the blonde realizes how tiresome this little habit is; having been subjected to it for the best part of four months. Her actual tone, when not being so concerned with coming across the regular stoic hard ass, is one the brunette in fact finds surprisingly pleasant. Secondary to the soft cries elicited from soft lips the previous night.

"I do."

Regina's own tone comes in its familiar sultry purr, but she offers no further comment or move. A shapely eyebrow raises back at her irritably as baited silence follows the Mayor's words. Finally the blonde gives an exasperated huff and throws her hands up in question.

"Well?"

"There's no need to get hissy with me, Miss Swan, I have come here to return something of yours out of my own good will, so you could at the very least pretend to be grateful."

"Ok, fine, what is it that you have so _graciously_ kept me here after hours to give back?"

"... And that irritable tone is most unappealing"

"Just give it to me, Regina"

"Say please"

The brunette smirks with prefect lips and the Sheriff rolls her eyes in frustration.

"Don't start"

"Don't start _what_? I am merely suggesting you obtain some manners"

"Whatever... ok, fine. _Please_ can I have it?"

"Better. But not good enough."

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

Emma swings her legs off the desk and stands with her hands spread on its weathered surface, her stance every bit as impatient and hostile as her expression. The Mayor pays this little mind, but does make a small note to herself that, whether uttered in irritation or ecstasy, something in the way the blonde curses demands her immediate arousal.

"Rudeness will get you nowhere, Sheriff"

"I'm tired, just give me whatever it is you came to give me... I have no interest in playing games"

The smirk on scarlet lips deepens as the Mayor pays this statement no concern. If there were any truth in the blonde's words, she would have left the station hours ago. But instead, she has stayed, as the brunette was almost certain she would.

"Hush"

"Don't tell me to-"

"-Turn around"

"What?"

That low tone again; angry and so boringly caged. Regina sighs, and gives a slowly obvious twirl of her finger.

"If you didn't hear me, the correct response would be 'pardon', but I know full well that you did. In which case your question would imply you didn't understand my meaning, and if _that's_ the case, I'm more than happy to assist you, dear"

She adds an inflection to the end of her statement, questioning sweetly. The disbelieving look on the Sheriff's face is perfection, and the brunette feels the heat between her legs increase as the younger woman's anger thrums electrically.

Nevertheless she knows Emma will comply; after all, she has stayed this long.

Narrowing her eyes murderously, the blonde turns to face the filing cabinets behind her.

"Good girl."

The brunette allows herself a moment of uninhibited admiration for the pert denim-clad ass on display before moving from her position in the doorway to take a seat in the visitors chair across the desk from where the Sheriff stands with her back to her.

"Take off you jacket."

She is ready for further argument at this command, and can tell by the way the blonde's shoulders square visibly that she is battling down the urge to snap back. She is relieved when the younger woman's anger remains bottled up; the game of stripping the Sheriff sure to become tedious if alternated with heated debate between the removal of each garment.

Squeezing her eyes shut against the rage that threatens to volcanically erupt, Emma forces her mind to savor the warm aftertaste of bourbon and lets her leather jacket fall to the floor heavily. Silence follows, and although the room is not particularly cold, she can feel her skin break out into goose flesh.

Regina smiles to herself; the blonde's act of submission in removing her jacket setting the tone for this little encounter. Her eyes travel the well-toned expanse of the Sheriff's arms and back, the latter encased in cheap black fabric she highly doubts is a hundred percent cotton. She ponders once more on the younger woman's impeccable physique despite seeming to do absolutely nothing to deserve it, and makes a vague mental note to investigate further. She has a feeling that if she were to take it upon herself to tail the blonde- for humiliation purposes only of course- into the woods where she had once seen her disappear, to smoke or meet a member of male entertainment she had assumed at the time, she would witness some hardcore cross country running.

"Very good. Now your top, please."

The hesitation apparent in the blonde is short-lived this time, and she seems to relax as she plucks at the hem of her top and lifts it over her head. There is no finesse to the act, no burlesque peak-a-boo play, no sensual slowness. She removes the item just as the brunette is sure she does when alone.

This half-assed level of commitment seems suddenly less important as the Mayor takes in the item the Sheriff wears beneath her top.

"Well, well, well... now that_ is_ a surprise"

Dark eyes roam over the intricate detail of a perfect concoction of satin and lace. The crimson bra the younger woman wears is most certainly anything but cheap, and Regina silently gives the other woman a point in their current power play as she has to amend the rules accordingly to her little game.

"Face me"

This time, Emma moves as soon as she is asked, and the ill-disguised lilt at the corner of her mouth suggests she knows exactly what's going on. Her long hair tumbles lightly over the deep red cups- half satin, half just delicate lace- but she takes care not to let it obscure the view too much. The complete upper half of the bra's cups are a simple net of lace that holds perfectly rounded flesh pleasingly. The brunette wets her lips unconsciously as she realizes that the cups themselves are held together across the front by mere satin strings; criss-crossed like a scarlet target.

"Very nice, Miss Swan... let's see if you can continue to impress me or if this is merely a fluke... the jeans, take them off."

Green eyes remain locked on the Mayor's as the blonde easily slips open her belt and wriggles her hips slightly to work down the tight blue denim. When it get's to the mid point of her thighs, she raises an eyebrow in question before moving her weight onto one leg and toeing off her boot with her foot. It is an undignified act, strangely boyish, and something the brunette has previously berated Henry for doing. However this method of removing her footwear is clearly well-practiced as Emma has both boots slung across the floor in no time and proceeds to kick her jeans off the rest of the way.

"_Very_ graceful"

The Sheriff shrugs in a way that suggests the older woman would be foolish to expect anything different from her, and Regina has to admit it is a sentiment she shares. She finds her thought process greatly hindered however, as she drinks in the French cut panties that contrast shockingly with milky skin.

_So the woman does, in fact, own some matching underwear._

The brunette momentarily drops her attention to Emma's feet, where she wears thick woolen socks that end a little below the knee and hang loosely in a weirdly teenage fashion.

_Well... stockings would have been preferable, but this will do almost as well._

The Mayor has to smirk inwardly as she takes in the full picture presented by the blonde. Her athletic body looks divine clad in the expensive lingerie she wears, and, despite her coy expression, if Emma's timidity upon undressing the previous day is anything to go by, she suspects the younger woman is unaware of the impact of the image she creates. It would be impossible to guess that this is what the blonde is hiding beneath her shitty collection of jackets and shirts, and there is something alluring in that thought. Something secretive. Possessive.

_Mine._

Offering Emma a business-like approving smile, the Mayor turns for one of the cells that line the adjacent room with a swift beckoning of her perfectly manicured finger.

"If you would like to follow me, dear"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **_Part 2 of the jail scene, thank you for your patience. I realise the last few chapters have been a little violent for some people, this one included. If this isn't your cup of tea, you could try my fic 'Comes at a Price' which revolves around a kinder relationship between these two, but I do intend to have things chill out in this fic as well for a little while, or at least be a 'tad less rapey'. As always, your comments are my crack, please enable me. _

* * *

The Mayor comes to a halt at the enterance of the lefthand steel barred cell and turns expectantly, signalling that she wishes Emma to enter the cell before her. The blonde complies after a moments hesitation despite allowing anyone to order her around so easily going against every fiber in her body. She hates adhering to the brunette, but she is also curious. And a little wet. She casts her heavy boots a longing glance as she passes them; the chill of the flagstone floor biting at her feet through thick wool.

Regina feels a small flush of victory as the Sheriff pads her way dutifully to the small cell, admiring the younger woman's ass as she walks towards the cot in the corner. The Mayor advances on her target quickly and grabs her by the waist, spinning her round in front of the small bed so that the blonde faces her. She pushes Emma easily onto the threadbare covers and smiles as she looks down from her superior height.

The blonde has fallen onto the bed awkwardly, across its width rather than its length and the cold brick behind props her up slightly at the shoulders, her legs training off the bed, slightly apart. She looks up at the brunette with a bemused expression and the latter simply waits until the Sheriff bores of her stoic glaring and scoots herself round so that she lies properly on the small cot. The brunette feels at the same time godlike, and as though she is standing over a body at a wake, with the way the younger woman lies rigidly still, and she promptly climbs onto the bed so that she straddles the blonde across her stomach; right kneecap digging uncomfortably into the brickwork due to the narrow mattress.

Pale hands immediately move up to rid her of her jacket and the Mayor knocks them aside irritably. The frustrated pout this results in causes her to smile down snidely and run one of her own hands gently over delicate crimson fabric. The heat emanating against her palm is exquisite.

"You know, I can't help but notice you're wearing considerably more clothes than I am.. hardly fair"

"And what makes you assume for a second that I'm interested in this being fair?"

Despite her words, the brunette can't help but view her position with vague irritation; the tight fabric of her dress pants allows the thrumming heat of the younger woman below her to fuel her arousal, but offers no friction or relief whatsoever. As if blaming the blonde for her predicament she roughly drags her nails over the lace of the Sheriff's bra, enjoying the way the fabric catches and pulls against her fingers and the sharp intake of breath that causes muscles to twitch against her own core.

_This could work._

She continues her rough ministrations over delicate fabric, snagging a few of the intricate whorls and delighting in the feeling of the blonde's nipples stiffening tellingly beneath her fingers. She tweaks one harshly through maddening material and is rewarded with a small cry. She grins down into darkened eyes and takes in the lustful parting of the younger woman's lips. She hasn't planned on kissing Emma, regarding the intimacy of this act to be useless in her current ploy for revenge, but she can't take her eyes off the pale rosy pout she knows matches the flushed flesh of the blonde's inner core delightfully.

Emma permits access to her mouth willingly, despite the sharp ache instigated from her bottom lip as the Mayor's mouth crashes into her own violently. The taste of the brunette's lipstick is foreign and medicinal, but not unpleasantly so. Regardless, she plans on there nothing but a ghostly memory of bold red on those plump lips by the time they're done here, already imagining what that particular shade will look like when marking several areas of her own pale skin.

Regina leans further forward, bracing her weight on her elbows and hands so that she can swing her legs to rest between Emma's own, effectively lying flush on top of the younger woman. She dominates the Sheriff momentarily with just the sheer, vital weight of her body; crushing her chest against the blonde's and pressing down with her stomach and hips.

Despite both women being remarkably slender, the position is actually fairly comfortable and the older woman breathes in the peculiarly arousing scent of of bourbon, while the younger breathes the delicate notes of Chanel No. 5. With a sigh, Regina moves herself down the blonde's body until she nestles between toned legs which she spreads wide with her hands. The leg adjascent to the wall has little room to move, so the Mayor forces it up instead, secretly testing the Sheriff's flexibility. When she gets the limb at a right angle to narrow hips while still remaining perfectly straight, she hums appreciatively and gives it a firm push against the wall to let the blonde know to keep it there.

Emma complies happily enough, deciding that if this is her punishment for her little stunt the previous day then she will take it gladly.

Regina begins to run her fingers gently over the soft flesh of the Sheriff's thighs, occasionally brushing over the satin swatch of her panties. She takes care to be delicate, pretending she is simply enjoying the sensation, which, she supposes, she is. Taking her time, and watching the steady rise and fall of the blonde's chest, she runs one finger lightly over the crotch of the younger woman's lingerie, finding her centre and stroking its length gently. Emma's eyes flutter shut and she adopts an uncharacteristically serene expression.

The Mayor continues running her finger over the slowly dampening fabric, keeping her eyes trained on the Sheriff's face. With her other hand she stealthily reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out the blonde's gun. She had been hoping to use the cold shock of the metal to surprise the younger woman, but its proximity to her body-heat has left the gun strangely warm. She'll just have to take a more direct approach.

"_Jesus_! What the _fuck_!"

Green eyes shoot open as the Sheriff scrambles quickly away up the bed, mouth open in shock. Regina smirks, and shows her the gun which she had moments ago pressed firmly to the blonde's satin covered sex.

"What in the actual_ fuck_, Regina?!"

There is no guarded discipline to the younger woman's tone now, as she cries out hoarsely, eyes wide and cheeks pink. The Mayor studies her curiously, delighting in the way her rapid breathing causes the globed flesh encased in harlot's red to heave.

"You really should be more careful where you leave your belongings, dear"

"Fuck you!"

"Really, dear, you-"

She lets out a sharp hiss as Emma's hand connects painfully with her cheek.

And then she doesn't play anymore.

Emma yelps as her guilty hand is gripped roughly at the wrist by ruthless fingers, while the brunette's other hand grabs at her hips and thighs with bruising force to wrestle her down the bed. Once pinned beneath the brunette, sharp teeth bite cruelly at the bare flesh of her stomach and manicured nails leave red trails over her ass and the accessible flesh of her legs.

"Re-Regina..."

She cries out as her underwear is yanked unceremoniously to the side and slim fingers enter her forcefully. She is grateful now for the Mayor's earlier teasing as there is no foreplay to the violent intrusion, and, while slightly uncomfortable, she knows there could well have been pain.

Regina thrusts her fingers roughly, eyes impossibly dark as she glares down at the younger woman beneath her. Her movements are savage and aggressive, and she can feel the silken muscles of the blonde's core begin to clamp around her fingers, despite the unease on the Sheriff's face.

"Bad move, Miss Swan"

The blonde lets out a choked cry as she climaxes suddenly; her body's reaction to the forceful fucking sickeningly rapid and a little painful. Her legs shake and go limp while her mind thrums blackly and for a second she's afraid she's about to pass out.

Strong hands pull at her sternly; manipulating her body and pushing and shoving until her stomach is pressed into the scratchy sheets. A tug at her hips pulls her clumsily onto her knees, although a hand in her hair keeps her head down on the pillow. She struggles to comprehend exactly what's going on; her muscles still weak and limbs uncoordinated.

A sharp smack to her ass has her quickly brought back to reality and she lets out a hiss of surprise.

Regina quickly rips the blonde's ruined underwear down her legs and resumes her work with her fingers without warning. The noise this rewards her is so close to a scream it almost brings her over the edge, and she increases the speed of her fingers until she's rewarded with the real thing. Emma struggles desperately to try and crawl away, fingers gripping handfuls of fabric uselessly and letting out distressed little yelps.

"Regina... stop, I can't..."

The brunette chuckles, her grip firm at the Sheriff's waist and keeping her from moving too far. The blonde is becoming harder to hold as she bucks and struggles fitfully, becoming slick with a light sheen of perspiration. Grabbing the younger woman's hips with strong hands, the Mayor flips her with difficulty so that she lies once more on her back, and moves her mouth to where her fingers have been excelling themselves. She grips the blonde's hipbones with bruising force to keep her from breaking the contact between her tongue and the younger woman's sex.

"Stop! _Fuck_! Stop it!"

Emma thrashes uselessly, trying to gain purchase of the brunette's hair, shoulders, hands, anything, so that she can throw her off. The intensity of the pleasure to her sex- already sensitive from the rough orgasm just moments ago- is bordering on painful, and she's having trouble breathing. One of her kicking feet make sharp contact with the Mayor's side and the latter stops her work just long enough to growl angrily

"Ah! You stupid girl"

She removes one hand from its death grip on Emma's hips and uses it to blindly catch the blonde's thrashing leg awkwardly at the knee. She tightens her grip, digging in her nails in reprimand, and focuses all of her attention on the bundle of nerves beneath her tongue. Sucking forcefully, the leg in her hand, and the other which lies trapped between herself and the wall, begin to shake uselessly, and she lets go to place her palm flat on the blonde's stomach above her.

Strong legs wrap themselves around her shoulders in reflex, but Regina notes they take care not to kick or knock her unneccesarily. She removes her mouth from the Sheriff's spent folds and rests her chin gently on the bare skin at her pubis, looking up along the planes of pale flesh to where green eyes are squeezed forcefully shut.

Slowly, Emma lowers her legs from the brunette's shoulders, although the movement is entirely graceless. Her muscles feel like jelly and she has to work much too hard to simply get them to respond at all.

"Fuck"

"So you keep saying"

Regina smirks and pats the blonde's stomach almost companionably before removing herself from the bed. She smooths out the creases from her shirt and dress pants, before bending down to pick up red discarded lace and letting it drop next to the Sheriff.

"Well dear, this was fun, and I do believe you will learn your lesson"

Emma doesn't open her eyes to look up, her breathing is still harsh and uneven and the Mayor wonders if she's even aware of where she is. Smiling, she supposes this works well in her favor. Strutting over to the barred door she lets herself out before swinging it shut. Reaching into her pocket, she removes the second item she has bought along for this little excursion. She finds the skeleton key which fits the lock easily, and slips it quickly in. The scrape of metal on metal seems to get through to the blonde and Emma opens her eyes hastily to witness the brunette turn the key and step away.

"Hey, wh-what?..."

"As I said, I am sure you will learn your lesson"

"Hey, no, wait, Regina!"

Emma scrambles up from the bed and staggers slightly as she rushes to the cell's door. The Mayor makes a quick bet with herself that the blonde will proceed to uselessly rattle at the bars and is proven right.

_Idiotic woman._

"Well, as I said, this has been fun... I'm sure I'll be seeing you, Sheriff."

"_What_?! What the hell, Regina! How am I supposed to get_ out_ of here!?"

"_That_, my dear, is really not my problem."

She tunes out the onslaught of yelling and swearing that follows, and simply flutters her fingers in farewell and turns to leave. Before she reaches the door she is struck by a peculiar thought and hesitates with her hand on the knob. Sighing, and silently questioning herself as to when she turned soft, she turns back and walks towards the cells. Emma shuts up instantly, and the Mayor has to admit, the girl seems to be learning quickly. But it's no good now. She enters the cell adjacent to Emma's, ignoring the bright-eyed confusion that follows her every movement, and strips the empty bed of its blanket, sliding the item briskly beneath the bars to the blonde's cell before turning to take her leave without a second glance.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **_Thanks for the comments on the previous chapter, they were hugely interesting! I'm very surprised/ pleased, as a lot of you seem to be predominantly Regina fans, and while I absolutely love both these characters, Emma is my favourite character on the show, so I really appreciate the comments that let me know I am doing Regina (actually, both of them) justice. Also, there were several comments on whether there would ever be any nice/ cordial/ romantic interaction with these two... you will have to wait and see, lovely readers, but I plan on progressing the story-line, as long as this fic keeps people interested, I'll say that much for now. _

* * *

The blonde frowns as her somewhat fitful dreaming is interrupted by the soft slamming of a door. She tries to place the sound in her mind; not recognizing the metallic quality of the noise for the usual soft thumps heard coming from downstairs at Mary Margaret's. Opening a sleep-blurred eye she takes in her surroundings with drowsy bewilderment until the previous night comes back to her in a rapid blur of emotion.

_Well it's about fucking time._

But the light skip of the oncoming footsteps make them impossible to be those belonging to the Mayor; the lack of the stiletto beat so steady the woman surely has an internal metronome nothing like these scurrying little taps. She racks her brain as to who else would possibly have any business coming to the police station to pay her a visit and comes to one horrifically obvious answer.

"Henry"

Her mouth opens in shock as she feels her stomach flip nauseatingly. With the steps rapidly approaching, she does the only thing she can think of; she hides. Pulling the threadbare blankets up over her head, she holds her breath- as if this is the key to eliminating one's physical presence- and waits.

"Hey Emma, I... Emma?"

She slowly pulls the corner of the blanket away from her eyes and peeks out as a familiar face regards her quizzically through the bars.

"Hey, Ruby"

"Umm..."

The young brunette offers her a curious smile before turning around and taking in the rest of her surroundings. She deduces that they are alone- odd, as the cell door is clearly locked- and halts her observations when her eyes drop to the damning evidence that is one of the Sheriff's muddy boots lying forlorn beside the desk. She regards the item quizzically before spotting a small swatch of blue hidden behind the bulky wooden table that can belong to nothing else but the cuff of the blonde's customary skin-tight jeans. She raises an eyebrow and turns her attention back to the blushing Sheriff with a smirk.

"Fun night?"

"Debatable"

Emma's cheeks glow positively scarlet as she attempts to sit up and simultaneously wrap the blanket around her scantily clad frame. Her heart is still beating much too fast from it's scare of being found in her current state by her son, but she can feel it gradually beginning to regain at least some sort of regular rhythm. She drops her eyes from the waitress's, feeling disgustingly uncomfortable. She doesn't know the younger woman particularly well, but is on some level aware that the brunette is possibly favorable company if such a thing exists in such a situation.

"So... who is he?"

White teeth flash at her in a wolfish grin and the blonde is slightly taken aback at Ruby's brazenness. She glares up at the waitress, causing the young brunette to smile apologetically and lower her eyes sheepishly. Emma sighs and gets up to walk over to the cell's door; wincing slightly at the ache in her thigh muscles while pulling the scratchy throw around her like a robe.

"Can we not...My keys are on the desk there, do you think you could..."

Ruby glances over to where the Sheriff points and nods amiably, trotting over to the messy desk and snatching up the silver set of keys lying amongst the piles of paperwork. She bounces back and selects the smallest key, wrestling it into the lock and letting the door swing open. Emma hurries ungracefully past her and snatches her discarded clothes from the floor; bundling them into her arms and making her way quickly for the door.

Ten hours is a hell of a long time with no bathroom break.

* * *

The Sheriff wrinkles her nose as she studies herself in the murky bathroom mirror. Her hair falls about her face in a cornsilk nightmare while her eyes peer back at her pinkly from darkened sockets. She can make out a livid bite-mark on the pale skin of her neck, and, upon letting the blanket she hides beneath fall to the floor, she finds several more.

"Bitch"

As she inspects the damage caused by the Mayor, she comes across a series of small bruises dappling her right thigh. She spreads her fingers and mimics their shape, finding her hand to fit the brunette's grip-mark perfectly. Sighing she pulls on her slightly chill-dampened jeans and buttons them up fiercely. She pulls on her ratty tank top and shucks on her jacket before splashing a generous helping of icy water onto her face and rinsing a scooped handful of it around her mouth. Regarding the finished product she sighs and pads defeatedly back to her office.

* * *

Ruby perches in the visitor's chair, eyes flickering about the room with burning curiosity. She looks up shyly as the Sheriff reenters and watches with growing interest as the blonde lowers herself somewhat tentatively into the seat opposite her. Green eyes regard her with what is a pitiful attempt at nonchalance and she offers Emma her warmest smile in return.

She is no stranger to the awkwardness of morning afters.

_Never had the Sheriff pegged for jail kink though... although I guess if that news item Sidney wrote was true and she picked up a liking for it... either way... who knew?.. The little minx..._

"So... umm... how can I help, Ruby?"

The waitress quickly pulls herself from her reverie and grins guiltily as Emma pulls her long hair to cover the purple mark at her neck where the brunette hadn't realized she'd been staring.

"Mary Margaret called and asked me to come check on you. She said she looked in on you just before she left as she didn't hear you come in last night, and got worried when you weren't there. She had to get to class, or she'd have come herself. Your phone's off so she called to ask if I'd mind popping round to see if you were ok... three times."

Emma groans inwardly and pulls her cell from the pocket of her jeans. She presses several of the buttons defiantly but the battery is well and truly dead. She sighs, and supposes she is peculiarly grateful that the schoolteacher hadn't been the one to find her in her sorry state; something about the thought of Mary Margaret knowing about her less than innocent escapade making her insides crawl.

"Damn. Well I suppose it's a good thing for me you let her pester you into checking anyway!"

Ruby grins companionably, glad to hear the Sheriff make a touching reference to the situation so that she knows where they stand.

"Oh, it's no problem, it's always nice to get an excuse to get out of the diner for a little while. I told her you'd probably just fallen asleep at your desk, what with all the work the storm must have created."

She sweeps a hand over the papers that litter the desk between them to emphasize her point. Emma smiles back shyly before fanning her fingers out on the desk, appearing suddenly engrossed in them as she avoids eye contact.

"Maybe, uh, you could still tell her that?"

The blonde looks up, startled, as a red-nailed hand warmly folds over her own; still not quite accustomed to the waitress's touchy-feely tendencies. The brunette offers her a winning flash of bright white teeth and uses her free hand to mime zipping her painted lips shut.

"Your secret's safe with me, Sheriff!"

Emma finally breaks into a genuine smile and the younger woman returns with another of her own, giving her a nod in farewell and rising to leave. When she reaches the door she halts suddenly and presses a palm to her forehead.

"Oh damn! I was going to bring you coffee and I completely forgot!"

"I think I _may_ owe you enough gratitude to overlook it, Ruby, even _with_ the onset of caffeine withdrawal"

She widens her eyes seriously at the last part and Ruby giggles pleasantly and promises to stop by in the afternoon with lunch and an extra large cup of mocha.

"Later, Emma"

"See you... oh, and Ruby... thanks for...you know..."

She casts her eyes pointedly over to her vacated cell and the brunette simply shrugs her shoulders; pulling her impossibly tight midi-top even higher.

"It's no big deal... now try not to fall asleep at your desk again!"

She throws the blonde a wink and offers a small wave of her fingers as she disappears through the door. Emma briefly ponders just how _anybody_ can be so overtly chirpy and harmlessly flirty at what must surely still be relatively early on in the morning and decides she will simply accept the fact. Gratefully.

She also makes a mental note to leave a handsomely generous tip the next time she stops by Granny's for hot chocolate.

* * *

Emma balls the grease-blotted paper wrapper from her finished toasted cheese- delivered by Ruby a short while ago, as promised- and throws it into the wastepaper basket in the corner with expert precision. She gives a small tip of an imaginary hat to no one in particular in response to this fete of exquisite sportsmanship, before returning to the property-damage report before her.

She sighs theatrically when the phone rings, hoping it will be Mary Margaret simply calling to chat- and possibly to sneakily check that she's living and breathing for herself- but knowing it is more likely to be Miss Ginger chasing her up on what she plans to do about the damage to her kitchen window. Again.

"Sheriff's station, Swan speaking?"

She waits impatiently as the line remains silent before a telling click lets her know the call has been disconnected.

"Well fuck you too then!"

* * *

The Mayor places the phone delicately back in its cradle and turns back to the floury dough she has been kneading ruthlessly with what can now, finally, be called her full attention. She refuses to believe that her first two attempts at baking this morning ending in disaster- despite the recipes being almost second nature- while the third now finally seems to be taking shape, to be anything but pure coincidence.

Her dark eyes fall irritably down to her coat and bag which sit perched on the table as if in preparation to go somewhere. As if she was perhaps thinking of making her way down to the Sheriff's station to make sure the young blonde had found her way out of the jail cell.

True, she is mildly curious as to how Emma has managed to pull this off.

True, she supposes she has been mulling over who would save the Savior.

She had been curious, yes. But worried?

No, not worried. Surely not.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **_Thanks for all the insightful comments on the last chapter, please, please, please keep them coming! Sorry, this part is more of a bridge between chapters than anything too juicy, but I will try and update as soon as possible with the good stuff._

_Also, I was asked when I decided to write Swan Queen as originally it was something I had said I wouldn't do. Personally, the first time I watched the series, I caught the hints, but wasn't immediately convinced, probably from having watched a lot of 'House' previously. I had been discussing the pairing with a friend back then and they told me to re-watch the show and sent me a link to a music video which, as well as being one of my favourite Swan Queen things I've seen/read... you can thank for this fic and convincing me. For anyone who hasn't seen it, I HIGHLY recommend checking it out- type in '**Swan Queen casual sex**' on youtube and watch the first vid that comes up, by Masque101... ENJOY this AND that! :)_

* * *

"Where have you been?"

The Mayor glares down at her son as he wanders merrily through the front door. He rolls his eyes at her in a way that is grotesquely familiar to the way glittering green eyes have rolled at her, lit with flickering fire, and she places her hands on her hips irritably. The dinner she has prepared has only been sitting forlorn for a couple of minutes, but her son's tardiness is still entirely unacceptable, and not at all like him.

"Take your shoes off, you're tracking mud. What have you been _doing_ anyway, you're _filthy_!"

"Emma rigged a tyre swing up in the woods because the castle got busted in the storm, it was sick!"

_Busted? Sick?... Really?_

Despite her bemusement at the questionable vocabulary being bestowed upon her son, she is actually a little surprised that he has spent the day in the company of the Sheriff. She herself has only caught glimpses of the younger woman this past week, finding the days to drag on so much longer without the irksome blonde barging in every ten minutes to rile her up.

In fact, if she were to spare the situation some thought, she would say the Sheriff has been avoiding her.

She _has_ been driving herself a little mad, admittedly, waiting warily for Emma to serve up whatever twisted form of comeback her queer mind conjures, but as the days have passed uneventfully by she wonders if perhaps Emma's ignoring her is not a punishment in itself. And she hates to admit it, but if this_ is_ the case, it is having the presumibly desired effect of pissing her off.

"Doesn't the Sheriff have better things to do then frolic about in the woods all day?"

"Uh, it's _Saturday_"

Henry quips in his best '_um, duh_!' voice, causing her to purse her lips in disapproval.

"And anyway, Emma got her paperwork all done_ way_ earlier because Ruby came over to help her with her filing yesterday"

"Ruby?"

_This is new._

"Yeah, she's been helping her most of the week"

"Is that so?"

Regina frowns a little as she goes about plating up the lasagna that sits pleasantly steaming on the dining room table. She hadn't been aware that the blonde and the waitress were anything more than acquaintances; not imagining the two to have a great deal in common. She would have thought Ruby's chirpy, flirtatious extroversion would be something the Sheriff found grating rather than endearing.

Not that she has any interest in the company Emma choses to keep.

* * *

"Yesterday I was _dirty_, wanted to be _pretty_, tomorrow I know... I'm still dirt"

Emma sings along absently to the music blaring loudly from the battered CD player on her nightstand. It is an old model, capable of running off both electricity and battery power, but the cable has long since become useless and ensnared. She has found that since moving into Mary Margaret's, the batteries she feeds the player seem to have a mysteriously short shelf-life; often coming back home to find them dead, or- twice now- simply missing.

_Apparently Mary Margaret is not a fan of Marilyn Manson... who'd have thought?_

She sits slouched against the cold iron headboard of her bed, a bowl of microwave popcorn resting in her lap, and breaks up her half-assed singing with oddly timed pauses to catch the kernels she tosses up into the air in her mouth.

She still wears her jeans from earlier and the knees are soiled with mud and grime. She suspects Regina will have given Henry a hard time about the similar state of his clothes and feels a small pang of guilt. She doubts the brunette herself has ever sustained so much as a grass stain in her entire miserable life.

_Ah fuck... Back to Regina again. _

She sighs irritably, scolding her mind for wandering so carelessly back to forbidden territory. In response, her memory flashes treacherously at her with the image of the Mayor lying spread out, gloriously, on her own desk like a prize.

"Shit"

The onslaught of erotic images is nothing new; this past week has left her permanently exhausted as she has struggled uselessly to catalogue and tame her emotions in regards to the older woman. She is lost. They have started this sordidly twisted game and, technically, it is her turn to play a hand, but she can't decide whether she wishes to take it.

At first, after being freed from her humiliating imprisonment by Ruby- an event which has lead to a surprising camaraderie with the younger woman for which she is genuinely pleased- she had been furious, deciding that if she was to see the Mayor again in _hell _it would be too soon. She had spent that first evening tossing and turning in her narrow, creaky bed, furiously cursing the incredulous brunette.

Since then she has calmed down, and, while still angry at being treated like a mere plaything , she finds herself more and more frequently thinking longingly of flawless skin and rich, chocolate eyes.

It is her turn to play a hand, but she has come to one, disillusioning, realization.

She can not win this.

There is a line; invisible, but it is there. The Mayor's little stunt at the station had toed it dangerously, but Emma has since come to the conclusion that the brunette stopped just short of crossing it. And of course, she herself is to blame for that, because she had allowed herself to be used in such a way. True, she had screamed and even begged of the older woman not to continue with her intense ministrations, but she knows that if she had really, truly _needed_ Regina to stop- if she had poured the efforts being spent on useless yelping and bucking into forming a concise sentence that served to let the brunette know she didn't wish to continue, that the Mayor was hurting her in any way- the game would have come to a halt. She allowed herself to be treated in such a way, and so the Mayor had continued to play her winning hand.

But if those roles were to be reversed...

She knows that she too had been skating on wafer thin ice with her use of the letter opener, but she _had_ taken care to keep to the rules. The brunette had been clear that she did not wish to be visibly marked or come to any harm, and Emma had been meticulous to follow that request, however loosely. She doesn't see how she can beat that experience. Unlike herself, Regina will not permit the pleasure to cross over to pain. Unlike herself, Regina will opt out before things threaten to soil her reputation. To rid her of her dignity.

She wants to believe that she is, in fact, simply kinkier than the brunette. More daring. But she knows deep down the way the decks are currently stacked. The playing field is uneven. The Mayor may degrade her however she sees fit, because she has messed up somewhere along the way and presented herself as a piece of cheap entertainment. She can't beat Regina because the brunette refuses her not just dominance, but respect.

And isn't that what she's_ really_ pissed off about?

It's her turn to play, but at some point during this horrendous, shitty week, she has come to the conclusion that she doesn't want to further her apparently futile attempt to demean the Mayor.

She has been trying to think of a way to shock the other woman the way she believes the brunette _deserves_ to be shocked and has come up empty. All thoughts being too ludicrous, too dangerous, too painful. Too risky of being turned down. Turned away.

No. She wishes to shock the older woman, but she will have to do so by altering the rules of their heated little battle of oneupmanship. Rather than a half-assed attempt to degrade the Mayor while delicately toeing that damned invisible line, she decides, after thoughtful consideration, that she will instead endeavor to even the playing field. To force the Mayor to admit that she is not merely a cheap plaything to be messed with when bored and then left to lick mournfully at the deep wounds sustained to her ego.

Not that the playing field was ever even to _begin_ with.

The Sheriff's lips- slightly shiny from the buttery popcorn- form a slow smile as she ponders this thought. No. As far as Regina is concerned, there was never any competition. She finds the blonde cheap, tacky, disposable as Sheriff and useless as a human being. Eyes flickering over to the mirror that hangs a little crookedly- brilliant, talk about irony when trying to disprove a point- on the adjacent wall, Emma studies her reflection.

Messed hair. Dirty clothes. Junk food. Singing too loud. A rogue popcorn kernel balancing precariously on a crease of her shirt.

If she can't beat the Mayor with kink-fueled antics, there is, perhaps, another way. Admittedly, the thought of stringing the delicious brunette up and slicing her own name into the delicate skin of the older woman's perfectly globed ass cheek is highly arousing... but proving the Mayor wrong... well that seems as though it would be the ultimate prize.

* * *

"...Henry... you there kid?"

Henry rolls over onto his stomach to fetch the walkie from the opposite end of the bed, careful not to crush the comic in his left hand.

"Emma?"

There is a brief pause while at the other end of the crackly line the blonde winces guiltily when faced with her son's unabashed delight at having her call him, before she pulls herself together and promises herself she will simply buy him an extra large ice-cream the next time they hang out.

"Hey kid... I need some, um, information"

"What is it?"

Henry's eyes glisten at the fact that the Sheriff is relying on him for whatever information she requires and he quickly rephrases his question to let her know that he is completely efficient

"What can I help you with, Emma?"

She smirks fondly at the strangely pompous quality to her son's voice and plays along

"I need to know what your mom has planned for tomorrow night, Henry"

"Um... nothing I don't think... why?"

"It's uh-"

She is about to tell him that her question is relevent to operation cobra, but can't bring herself to lie to him like that, so she just clears her throat and appeals for his silence.

"It's just something I needed to know for this thing I have planned... Sheriff stuff..."

"Oh... ok"

"Henry, I need you to make sure she stays home tomorrow night, and that the spare keys are under the mat... I need to talk to her about something, but she can't know I was asking, ok, Henry? Can you do it? Can you keep it a secret?"

"Of course! You can count on me!"

"I know, kid, I always can"

Henry grins and on the other end of the line the Sheriff smiles fondly, although feeling more than a little guilty for getting the kid caught up in her game.

"Oh, crap, I better go now, Emma, I can hear my mom coming up the stairs"

"Ok, night, Kid... and Henry... umm... sleep well, yeah?"

She cringes, feeling awkward and deciding she posseses not one ounce of motherliness in her entire being. Henry's smile widens, however, and he beams at the black walkie in his small hand.

"You too, Emma, sleep well!"

She grins sheepishly and depresses the communication button, placing the walkie carefully next to her pillow. She replays her son's words over again in her head and smiles when she imagines that tonight, finally, she will indeed sleep well. Very well indeed.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** _And another chapter- blame my lack of dedication to my dissertation which is what I should be doing. Hope you enjoy, and if there are any mistakes in this, Mr Jack Daniels was my beta, so the blame is entirely on him!_

* * *

Emma sits on the soft, threadbare throw that covers her bed, the worn fabric brushing the bare skin of her thighs and ass comfortably. She wears nothing but a simple black thong, and sits with her head cocked at a most peculiar angle; trying to avoid mixing up the hair she has already tamed into sleek, golden waves from the tangles still to be attacked with her curling iron.

"Ah! Shit!"

She sucks her burnt finger into her mouth painfully, guessing there may be some truth to that whole 'beauty is pain' proverb. She soldiers on, teasing her mass of hair with a little more caution until she is left with silken curls that tumble gracefully over her shoulders.

"Not too bad, Swan"

She pulls a face at herself in the mirror, feeling a little like character in a Pre-Raphaelite artwork as her blonde tresses cover her breasts demurely. She hunts around in the wooden chest that sits at the foot of her bed, shoving about the useless accumulated crap that needs to be sorted- at some point- until she finds what she's looking for. Twisting the top off the small black jar she lifts it to her nose and inhales appreciatively. The moisturizer inside smells not just good, but expensive, and, while she remembers being given it by a mark a few months before coming to Storybrooke, she can't recall his face. Not that it matters.

What matters is that the buttery cream smells of cinnamon, vanilla and a hint of black pepper, and she slathers it lightly on the pale skin of her legs, marveling at their freshly waxed feel. She repeats the process to cover the entire expanse of her torso before walking over to the black bag that sits expectantly by her door with mixed feelings of apprehension and excitement.

The bag comes from a store in Portland, and she has never been more inclined to wish Henry correct on his theory that the inhabitants of this town are doomed to never leave. It gives her the edge.

_She had driven out of town in her little yellow bug and, after an hour of passing nothing but woodland and then industrial parks, she had found herself in the city. It had been oddly therapeutic to find herself in an environment other than her little town for an afternoon, and she had sat for a short while in Starbucks, nursing a large toffee nut latte, before finding her way to the best shopping district. Most of the names emblazoned on awnings and windows were well known, but the blonde had quickly forbidden herself to be drawn to the comfort of familiarity. Instead she had carried on searching until coming across a small, darkened boutique tucked between a pompous little tea house and a jewelry store._

Regina would love this place.

_It was not an experience she would wish to repeat; the impossibly thin shopping assistant eyeing her up and down so obviously she had felt the color flush to her cheeks. The tags on the clothes hung primly on artistically curved hangers had seemed ridiculously extortionate, but again, she had scolded herself for falling into old habits. Deciding that black would be the safest option, she had searched her way through the luxurious array of dresses and suits until finding the least unappealing option._

Pulling the delicate material carefully from the bag now, she is loathe to admit that with a great price comes exceptional quality. She pulls the dark fabric over her head, careful not to ruffle her curls, and studies herself in the mirror meticulously. The black silk clings to her body unforgivingly, falling softly a few inches above her knee. The straps of the dress- if that's what you'd call them- are an elaborate concoction of twists and curves that create delicate, black, shapely lines which play over her collarbones and shoulders. She is not usually a 'fussy' girl, but she has to admit the design of the garment is stunning.

And it doesn't look half bad on her either.

A dull thud as someone knocks on the front door downstairs has her ripping her attention away from her foreign reflection and padding lightly downstairs on bare feet.

"Who is it?"

Her heart hammers a little faster than she'd like; dreading running into her housemate as she doesn't think she can handle the resultant wave of affection and exclamations over her current state of dress.

"_Me_! Now let me in, or I'll huff, and I'll puff and I'll-"

"Hey, Ruby"

"_Emma_!"

The young waitress takes in the blonde's attire with a comically dropped jaw. Emma blushes but gives an awkward little twirl to showcase her outfit. The brunette quickly holds her in place as the Sheriff shows off her back, deftly pulling up the narrow zipper that had been gaping open in a curious V all the way down to the dimples above the older woman's buttocks.

"_Ah_, hey! Not so tight!"

The blonde wiggles a little to get accustomed to the restrictive pull of the material, causing the waitress to giggle.

"That's _not_ tight, Emma, you wanna see tight, you should have borrowed something out of _my_ wardrobe!"

Ruby grins at her own expense as her eyes roam appreciatively over the Sheriff's uncharacteristically flattering attire.

"Which I was going to suggest that you do anyway, but... _wow_! I mean... holy _shit_!... You're_ hot_!"

Emma blushes furiously, giving an awkward shrug and beckoning the waitress up to her bedroom, closing the door quickly behind them.

* * *

"So you're really still not gonna tell me who you're going out to see?"

"Nope"

"Tease"

"Maybe"

"Why not?... I won't tell anyone!"

"Uhuh... still no"

"Emm-_aaa_"

"Yup?"

"Please!"

"Nope"

Ruby pouts as she holds the blonde's chin gently in strong fingers, turning her head to the side so that she has better access to an enviable cheekbone. She blows softly on the brush she has loaded with blusher- having been instructed to keep everything minimal- and strokes at the dip above the blonde's jaw to exaggerate her naturally high cheekbones with a hint of cherry blossom.

"Nevermind, I'll just ask you tomorrow"

"And what makes you think I'm going to tell you tomorrow?"

"You'll be in too good a mood not to!"

"Oh?"

"You go out looking like this, doll, and you are gonna get_ laid_. Hence, you being all warm and fuzzy with after glow and telling me all the juicy details!"

The brunette nods burlesquely, widening her eyes as though she is speaking of a predicament the blonde can in no way get out of. Emma snorts amiably, closing her eyes as dusky shadow is applied to her lids and blindly waves her hand around until she finds the waitress's knee, giving it a hard flick.

"I don't _do_ warm and fuzzy"

"I didn't think you did _dresses_ either, but look who's suddenly all fancy! Seriously, you look like you should be hanging out with the Mayor!... Oh my _god_!"

"_What_?"

Emma opens her eyes abruptly, her stomach clenching painfully as her heart jumps into her throat.

_Please no please no please no please no_

"Your date!"

"...What about it?"

"It's not... it's not _Gold_, is it?"

"What?! _No_!"

The Sheriff glares at the young brunette incredulously and Ruby grins apologetically and goes back to lining the blonde's eyes with darkly smudged kohl along the lines of her lashes.

"Sorry... Just because of the dress..."

"_Great_, now I want to change."

"You will not! Forget I said anything! You look amazing... ridiculously classy, but amazing... I'd _definitely_ fuck you"

"_Ruby_!"

"Just saying!"

"...Thanks.. I think?"

"Welcome... all done"

Ruby screws her mascara back up and places it in the small pink makeup bag she'd bought over with her. Emma blinks her eyes rapidly a few times before standing to study herself in the mirror. It is an incredibly odd sensation. She recognizes the shapes and features of her face and her body; the light freckles just visible at her nose, the small scar above her left eye, the darker freckles on her shoulders, her green eyes and her general well proportioned shape...But it is as if stranger has adopted these traits. Her hair shines magnificently, begging to be touched, and her features are exaggerated in a way that is so sexy it's a little disarming; Ruby's makeup smoking prettily around her eyes, darkening them, and the dress hinting seductively at the curves beneath.

"Damn!"

"I'll say!"

She turns to face the brunette with a goofily crooked grin that the waitress reciprocates fondly. The brunette fusses momentarily over a few stray strands of blonde hair, wetting her finger and setting them about the Sheriff's face so that they sit just right. With this accomplished she takes a step back and admires the finished product before reaching back into her bag and pulling out a pair of very simple but very high black heels.

"You_ sure_ you're gonna be okay on these?"

Emma gives her a coy wink and slips the shoes on easily; thanking any deities interested on behalf of her credit card that the waitress is the same size in shoe as she is.

"I'm fine"

She supposes that the fact she has spent the past few years dolling herself up as part of the job to be another point in her favor. While her attire for such operations was vastly different to the beautiful dress she wears now, sky-scraper heels- the sort that make a woman's butt look positively divine incidentally- are something she is well practiced in. And she would happily bet most anything that the Mayor is under the impression that she'd be hard put to walk in even _moderate_ heels. If any effeminate shoes at all.

Ruby offers a saucy wolf whistle, standing a couple of inches shorter than the blonde now, and pulls on her coat.

"Well... _whoever_ he is... he's in for a treat!"

"...Thanks"

"Any time, good luck, honey"

* * *

Regina lies back serenely in the deep claw-foot tub. Apple-cinnamon scented candles flicker gently on the window sill and she breathes in their heavenly aroma appreciatively. Her dark hair is slicked back wetly from her fine features, glistening in the dancing light of the flames. The warm lavender scented water is topped with a sumptuous lather, riding sensually just under her breasts.

A minute frown crosses her brow momentarily as she imagines she hears a door down below open and shut, but she had checked on Henry before running her bath, and the young boy is sleeping soundly down the hall.

The house is old. Sometimes noises go unexplained.

Eventually the water begins to cool, and she rises gracefully from the tub; crystal droplets streaming down her velvety flesh in freshets. She reaches for the fluffy white towel that hangs patiently on the golden bar hooked at the back of the door and dries herself off methodically, leaving her slick hair to air dry.

She hangs the towel back in its place; the bathroom directly opposite her bedroom and thus requiring no need for the dampened fabric, and makes to pad into her room to change. As she opens the bathroom door, she notices a soft glow emanating from the stairwell. Odd, as she had turned off all the lights downstairs upon retiring to her bath.

She creeps quietly into her room and dons the silken cream robe that hangs at the back of her door; pulling the material protectively over her bare form. Tying the silk rope around her waist, she pads cautiously down the hallway, hesitating for a moment at the stairs, before tip toeing stealthily down.

The light comes from her drawing room, and she frowns, suddenly sure she hears soft music creeping from behind the heavy oak door. She walks quickly over to her kitchen and pulls a large carving knife from her top drawer before bracing herself against the wall beside the entrance to her drawing room. Plucking up her courage, she swiftly pushes the door open; the knife held out in front of her protectively.

She isn't sure just what she had been expecting. Whatever it was, the scene she takes in upon entering the room is one for which she isn't prepared. Dropping the knife to the floor with a metallic clunk, she remains stood in the doorway with her mouth open in disbelief.

"Good evening, Madame Mayor."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **_Oh, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter... I'm not too pleased with it, but then it is not quite my style due to all those pesky feelings and such... I hope it's not disappointing? The lyrics aren't mine, they are by Darell Scott- 'Snow Queen and Drama Llama', altered ever so slightly to fit the context. Please let me know what you think!_

* * *

Regina blinks rapidly, as though she expects the scene before her to dissipate with the fluttering of her lashes. A large bottle of red wine rests on her ornate coffee table; a sentinel over two glasses filled to the brim which she recognizes to be from her own crockery cabinet. The room is awash with a flickering glow and she guesses every single candle she owns- spare those she'd been enjoying in the bath- has been set out about the room and lit to create this beautiful setting. A fire roars magnificently in the hearth, casting dancing light over the stunning woman sat on her sofa, who, after a moment's confusion, she recognizes for who she is.

"Emma...?"

No authoritative pretense, no use of the blonde's last name.

The Sheriff merely nods, once, sending her soft curls tumbling gently over her shoulder, and motions in a way that is uncharacteristically graceful that the Mayor should take a seat on the sofa opposite to where she sits. She does it as though this is her room- her space- and for now, that is exactly what it is.

The brunette doesn't move right away, but stays stood in the doorway, staring over at the blonde as though seeing her for the first time.

_This is Emma? Emma?!_

Pulling herself together she pads lightly to her proffered seat, thankful for the fire that has warmed the stones beneath her feet. She pulls her robe to her body tightly before lowering herself into the plush cushions, continuing to drink in the woman sat before her.

"You look..."

The Sheriff raises an eyebrow expectantly as Regina searches for the correct term.

_Even her damn eyebrows are magnificent._

"Yes, well, very nice, Miss Swan"

She alters her tone to be suddenly business-like, tearing her eyes from the younger woman, and straightening the hem of her robe distractedly, sniffing in distaste. Emma meanwhile holds herself together, deciding to focus on Regina's words, rather than her tone.

"Thank you"

She says it softly, and with none of the brittleness she usually saves for the brunette. Regina is peculiarly reminded of the first night the two met and looks up in surprise, scolding herself when her eyes linger too long, too appreciatively. She reaches down to take a sip of the wine that rests between them, glancing at the bottle curiously. Its flavor is not what she had been expecting; for one, it is delectable.

"This is good..."

"I'm glad you like it"

Again, that pleasantly soft tone, and Regina eyes the blonde warily.

_Dear god, but that dress fits her well..._

"I wouldn't have figured you for a wine connoisseur, Sheriff."

Her remark is baited. She is deeply curious as to Emma's choice in drink; the dark red wine holding a delicate nose of chocolate and pepper. It is divine, but not at all something she would have thought the blonde would pick out. She is waiting for this disarming little charade to shatter into something more familiar. She waits for the blonde to cuss, to roll her eyes, to adopt her ever grating- yet really quite arousing- sarcastic drawl.

It doesn't come.

"I'm not, really. I _know_ wine better than I_ like_ wine... personally I prefer whisky, but, being a woman, wine is what tends to be offered... in my old line of work anyway... and I wouldn't figure _you_ to be particularly fond of whisky?"

Emma raises an eyebrow in question, taking a small sip from her own glass. She is pretty sure that her left knee is shaking slightly, but she crosses her legs and hopes Regina doesn't notice. After all; she has done this a hundered times before. She can play a part.

She tries to imagine the brunette as just another mark.

"No, I'm not fond of whisky..."

Silence falls over them like a shroud and the Mayor takes another sip of her drink. She is incredibly unnerved by this whole situation; she wants to let her eyes roam over to the blonde, to take in this new intoxicating version of the Sheriff, but she is wary of doing so. Somehow she knows this is a side to Emma that is just for her, and there is something alarming and exhilarating in that knowledge. At the back of her mind, she vaguely understands that this is all part of their ongoing game, but she also understands that this is not about _her_. This is about Emma.

And she wonders momentarily if the blonde herself is aware of this.

As the silence drags on, Emma fights the urge to begin fidgeting, eyes flickering up periodically to study the Mayor who keeps her own eyes cast carefully down at the half empty bottle of wine on the table.

_This isn't how this was supposed to go._

She takes a final sip of wine, the warm liquid coursing through her dizzyingly, its thrumming heat indistinguishable from the blood that pounds a little sickeningly in her chest.

"...Would you like to dance?"

Regina glances up at the Sheriff- sure she has misheard the younger woman- with an expression akin to shock. The blonde's cheeks flush an alarming shade of scarlet, but she keeps her head held high and rises gracefully from the couch, offering the Mayor her hand in a way that is so charmingly formal that the brunette takes it on simple reflex and finds herself standing curiously before the younger woman.

Emma's hand is warm in hers, and she notes the odd little twitch that flutters through slender fingers- the only physical sign of the blonde's nervousness- as she is led silently into the centre of the room. She doesn't recognize the quiet melody coming from her lavish music system to be anything she owns, and she waits uncertainly in the middle of her drawing room as the Sheriff moves to hover over the CD player, flicking quickly through the tracks before finding one to her taste and turning up the volume.

She wanders hesitantly back to where the Mayor stands and places her hands awkwardly at the brunette's waist, her fingers brushing slickly over the silk of the older woman's bathrobe. Instinctively, Regina swaps their positions. She does so silently, not pointing out that she doubts the blonde has the first clue about leading, but simply pulling the younger woman a little closer and encircling her waist. Emma stands a fair bit taller in her heels, but when she goes to remove them, the Mayor gives a small nudge of her hand against the Sheriff's ribs, indicating she wishes things to remain just the way that they are.

The music fades as a new song begins and Regina glances up at the blonde, finally allowing herself to give in to her- deciding that if this is all an act, she will at least get a dance out of it- and holds her closer still, her head spinning dizzily with the smell of spiced vanilla. As lyrics begin to lay themselves over the pleasant picking of the guitar, the Sheriff offers her a shy smile, and, after a moments hesitation she leans in for a taste.

_'They were waiting at the depot but it wasn't for a train_  
_They were underneath the weather, seeking shelter from the freezing rain_  
_Snow Queen to Drama Llama, said, "you're weary to the bone_  
_Though I'm not accustomed to it, I invite you to my icy home ...come on the over_

_I will put you on my table, I will rub you up and down_  
_I will take a Russian fur hat and I'll wear it like a Snow Queen crown"_

_And the mountains they did tremble_  
_And the walls came tumbling down_  
_And the feeling it was simple_  
_As the snow lay on the ground_

_Drama Llama to her snow queen, said, "it's you I'm dreaming of_  
_All my life I've been a roamer and it's led me to this pilgrim, love_  
_My eyes are overflowing; hell, they are not even tears_  
_They're a rushing of a river that will flourish for a thousand years"_

_Snow Queen to Drama Llama says "I know just what you mean_  
_I went to see the gypsy- she said she saw you in my childhood dream"_

_And her fingers they did tremble_  
_As her hair came tumbling down_  
_And the loving it was simple_  
_As their clothes lay all around_

Regina groans as soft lips find her throat, the blonde's tongue running sweetly against her jaw before moving back down to breathe hotly into the hollow of her collarbone, all the while continuing to sway gently to the music.

She lets her fingers glide over the luxurious fabric of the Sheriff's dress. Every now and then she runs her hands simultaneously up the younger woman's hips, collecting the fabric to bunch slightly at the waist and thus exposing a flash of thigh, but the blonde continues to move against her tantalizingly, while at the same time restricting the brunette's explorations.

The Sheriff is not an excellent dancer, but neither is she poor, and though the Mayor would never admit such a thing out loud, the slight awkwardness to the way Emma allows herself to be led is peculiarly endearing.

_Snow Queen and Drama Llama, they just could not make it last_  
_While they were living in the moment, all right, they could not outlive their pasts_

_It came rushing in to choke them like a blind thief in the night_  
_Stealing kisses from a stranger, hoping this time they could get it right_  
_These masters of impermanence, they know everything must end_  
_Another quarter in the jukebox and you play that song again and again_

_And the mountains ceased their trembling_  
_And the walls began to rise_  
_And they saw what they were missing_  
_When they opened their eyes_

_And the mountains ceased their trembling_  
_And the walls began to rise_  
_And love turned into a memory_  
_When they made up their minds_

_They were underneath the weather seeking shelter from the freezing rain_

_(It's cold outside...let me in...let me in)'_

The music fades once more as another song begins and Emma presses her lips firmly against the Mayor's, hands wandering to the front of the older woman's cream robe and pulling deftly at the silken tie that cinches the fabric at her waist.

"Go to the desk"

The Sheriff's whisper is soft in the brunette's ear; nothing like the harsh venom used the last time she had uttered the command. Regina complies with minimal hesitancy, stopping just short of the desk and turning back to regard the blonde levelly. Her dark eyes convey in them a very clear message; should Emma so much as _think_ about repeating her stunt from last time, the game will come to an end.

In a way, this result could be argued as a victory to the blonde, and, while Regina is almost certain that the Sheriff will not play her final hand now- not after the way things have changed tonight- she needs to know for certain.

Emma shakes her head gently and moves to back the Mayor the rest of the way into the desk with a soft push of her thighs.

_No. Not this time. This time it's different._

Pale fingers thread themselves through dark locks as the Sheriff brushes her lips against the brunette's slowly.

"I seem to remember you saying something about being left disappointed... let's see if we can rectify that"

It's a soft murmur, pink lips never leaving red as they whisper hot air over sensitive flesh. Regina sighs as the loosened tie of her robe is snaked gently from her body and the soft silk falls open to reveal her entirely. She runs her hand down to the hem of Emma's dress, plucking the material up pointedly, but the blonde steps quickly away with another shake of her head.

"Not yet."

The brunette frowns momentarily, but pulls herself swiftly up onto the desk, maneuvering herself into the position she'd taken on its surface the previous week. Emma moves round to where the Mayor's head rests once more, but this time her features are soft in the fire light and she tucks her long hair gently behind her ears, inadvertently making herself look disarmingly innocent, but serving the purpose to keep the heavy golden curls from covering her face. She runs her finger lightly over the small scar at the Mayor's mouth before climbing up onto the desk- careful not to jab the brunette with her sharp heels- and straddling the older woman's bare hips gently.

Regina marvels at the feel of soft silk contrasting with the hot bare flesh of Emma's legs against her own and raises an eyebrow expectantly. The blonde dips her head to beg access to the Mayor's mouth once more while her slim fingers wander softly over the bare flesh of the brunette's torso.

Everything is slow, sensual, and Regina closes her eyes as the blonde caresses her breasts, first with her hands, and then- after moving herself to kneel between the Mayor's legs- with her tongue. She drags her fingers gently up the soft flesh of the brunette's thighs, occasionally turning her wrist so that her fingers whisper against the darker woman's folds.

"You're so lucky"

The Mayor opens one eye distractedly and peers down at the blonde whose tongue is currently working a wet trail down from her navel.

"Hmm?"

"You're flawless... beautiful"

Regina closes her eyes once more, a soft smile creeping across her plump lips before gasping as the Sheriff's mouth reaches its target.

"No one is flawless, dear, but I admit, I am pretty close to it"

Her words come out choked and gravelly as her breathing breaks into pleasured gasps, and she's not sure if she had meant them humorously or not. She isn't embarrassed by the Sheriff's claim; she is under much the same impression herself after all. She is surprised at the blonde's willingness to vocalize her opinion however, and, while not flattered by information she already knows, she is peculiarly touched by the gesture, knowing it to be yet another shift in their ever perplexing relationship. She wonders if Emma is aware of this, but then two fingers slip into her slick entrance and she decides to ponder such things another time.

"Shit"

She moves her hand down to rearrange the unruly tresses which have inevitably fallen to obscure her vision of the blonde's face. Green eyes flash up at her, and, while she can tell by the blush that creeps over the Sheriff's cheeks that she is a little uncomfortable being watched performing such intimate ministrations, Emma allows her to tuck the escaped curls back in place.

The blonde quickens the pace of her fingers at the quiet urging of the Mayor, running her tongue firmly over the brunette's most sensitive spot before taking the little bundle of nerves into her mouth. Toned thighs begin to tremble tellingly around her and she curls her fingers to rub against the little raised patch of flesh at the older woman's entrance as clear moisture begins to run down her wrist.

"Oh God, please!"

Dark eyes clamp shut and the Mayor's lithe form shudders sporadically on the desk, fingers curling into tight fists and mouth open in a silent scream.

Emma waits for the older woman to ride her pleasure out, keeping her fingers in place but easing up their frantic speed. She keeps her lips pressed to the brunette's core until shaking hands find her hair clumsily and pull her gently away.

"That was..."

Regina shakes her head, deciding she can't be bothered to find the correct term, sufficing instead to pull the younger woman back up onto her and finding her lips, caressing a soft, slightly damp, cheek with her thumb.

Emma runs her own fingers through the brunette's dark tresses as she leans down to hover over the Mayor's lips. After what seems like hours, Regina's hands leave her face and move to her waist, pushing gently but firmly until their positions are reversed- the process a little awkward due to space- on the desk.

The brunette studies the younger woman lying beneath her intently; breathing in the lingering smell of her moisturizer and admiring the contrast of the delicate black fabric whispering across her milky skin. Blonde hair fans out around the Sheriff's head in a silken halo and Regina strokes a single stray strand from off her slightly flushed cheek before leaning down and whispering into golden tresses so quietly the words are instantly lost.

"Beautiful".


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **_Again, I am not overly thrilled with this chapter. I'm wondering whether to simply start a new story between these two, or if this is still working okay. Thanks so much for the confirmation on the last chapter however. Reading it back, I like it more now :). Please keep up the lovin'! __  
_

* * *

_Blonde hair fans out around the Sheriff's head in a silken halo and Regina strokes a single stray strand from off a slightly flushed cheek before leaning down and whispering into golden tresses so quietly the words are instantly lost._

_"Beautiful"_

"Did you say something?"

"No, dear"

Regina quickly leans in to nip at the blonde's clavicles to deter any further questioning. She pulls the Sheriff up slightly so as to pull down the zipper hidden at the back of her dress, and begins pushing the fabric up the younger woman's body with firm strokes of her hand, thus revealing the black swatch of her thong and the dip of her navel. Emma complies to help wrestle the intricate fabric from her shoulders and chest, her erratically careless movements threatening to send them both toppling off the desk.

"Stop your fidgeting, Miss Swan!"

_The dress isn't even half way off her damn body and already the delusion of class comes crumbling down. _

The Sheriff blushes pinkly, and forces herself to remain still as the brunette deftly plucks at the delicate strings and whorls that flow across her pale flesh until, finally, the dress is pulled up over her head in a shroud of midnight.

Regina lets the garment fall carefully to the floor; not wishing to damage the singular item of clothing the younger woman possesses that she doesn't deem hideous. Hooking her fingers into the tight cotton of the blonde's panties, she drags them swiftly down long, muscular legs; leaving the woman beneath her completely bare.

Faded, lingering bruises dapple the Sheriff's pale flesh where teeth and nails attacked her skin back in the jail cell. Regina plays her fingers over these marks gently, mimicking their shapes and patterns, occasionally pressing a little more firmly here and there.

"You bruise so easily..."

"Yes, my body's defenses when it comes to pseudo-rape are very much lacking"

The brunette scowls down at the blonde before rolling her eyes irritably. She should have known Emma's charming act could only last so long.

(She refuses to entertain the thought that perhaps she quite enjoys the sardonic little quips forever stringing languidly from pink lips.)

She can feel the color rising to her cheeks a little shamefully, which in turn fuels the beginnings of her anger. She doesn't like the Sheriff's wording in the slightest, and she glares down at the blonde with a distinctly caged expression, although her fingers continue to draw out intricate patterns on the younger woman's supple flesh.

"Well, you deserved it. It was pay back... it wasn't... what you said"

"Oh?"

Regina growls as the blonde raises an eyebrow and she pulls her hands swiftly away from soft skin.

"You threatened me with a blade and left me lying, wanting, on my own damn desk!"

"Uhuh, _you_, meanwhile, cuffed me to your goddamned door and treated me like a fucking _whore_... twice..."

The Mayor flips her hair back irritably, a burning loathing growing within her at being called out. In her own mind, she can't see how the two could possibly be compared.

In her own mind, she has always looked out for number one. Looked out for herself. In her own mind, donning an expensive dress does not give others the right to run their mouths. Not if they do so against her.

"Well, I simply call it like I see it, _dear_"

The blonde goes rigid beneath her, and then an angry hissing escapes those deliciously sex-swollen lips.

"Get off me"

Regina blinks down at the younger woman in hazy confusion. She is used to the anger that laces the Sheriff's voice, having suffered through the tedious act of listening to the irksome woman rant and rave in that ever sarcastic way of hers many a time.

This is different though. This is raw.

She expects strong fingers to claw at her bare legs and sharp hips to buck tantalizingly against her own. Instead she is met only with a watery green glare that doesn't quite make sense to her.

She is angry at Emma for her phrasing as to what had happened back at the Station. She was simply serving out punishment, and, if the blonde had really, _truly _been scared or in pain she should have damn well said something_ then_. Not now.

The brunette's head spins. Tonight has been nothing short of a roller coaster, and now she struggles to make sense of things.

_This is how this is supposed to work. They argue. And now; they have sex. The blonde is supposed to snipe back at her. Goad her. Set her up for her next line._

"Miss Swan-"

"-I said get off me!"

The blonde's voice breaks on the last word, and she hates herself for it.

_Why the fuck did I think this would be a good idea? Like things were_ ever _going to be fucking fair!_

Regina stays put, dark eyes roaming over the Sheriff's pale face curiously. She vaguely recalls her earlier bout of apprehension that the younger woman was planning to play her winning hand and call an end to their little game.

Their fucking game.

Dark shadow, so meticulously applied, still smokes beautifully around stormy eyes and the Mayor's expression of distaste gradually disappears. She lowers herself slowly down until her weight is carried on her forearms which rest- cushioned by blonde curls- flush with the desk's surface; bringing her nose to nose with the Sheriff. Emma glares up at her haughtily, but there is a fragility in those green eyes that the brunette doesn't miss.

When she speaks her voice is low, and, while her words could be considered goading, her tone is neutral and her stance displays no intention of removing herself from the slim form pinned beneath her.

"You shouldn't have walked out like that..."

"And _you _shouldn't have left me in those fucking cuffs!"

"...I know..."

Perfect lips press softly against the blonde's left eye- brushing against the small nick that mars the flesh of her brow bone- before the Mayor runs an uncharacteristically gentle hand through the Sheriff's hair, smoothing it back from her pale forehead.

"I know that"

She moves her lips to Emma's and nips at them gently. She isn't deterred when her ministrations are met with resistance; simply continuing to brush, lick and nibble softly.

Eventually she feels the taught muscles beneath her relax, and manages to part the Sheriff's lips with a hard swipe of her tongue. She closes her eyes and deepens the kiss, but when she runs her hand sensually down between their bodies, the blonde presses her legs pointedly closed.

_Anyone would think she's never been called a whore before..._

Regina banishes her inner goading irritably. She doesn't believe for a second that the Sheriff hasn't heard a thousand times worse, but she feels momentarily sheepish for her little quip at the younger woman's expense. Not because she feels she is entirely in the wrong, but because of tonight. Tonight was supposed to be about Emma, and she knows that the blonde's efforts to present herself the way she has won't have come easily.

Somewhere, in the very narrow crawl-space of her mind, where her younger self still lingers, she wishes to simply whisper into the blonde's ear that none of this was necessary. That, while they will always be at each other's throats, and there will always be this battle for power between them, she hadn't expected the younger woman to make the efforts she has tonight. Not when she can't bring herself to acknowledge them.

_It is easier to hurt her than to compliment her._

Instead, she merely skims her hand over the apex of the blonde's thighs and back up to rest on her stomach, trailing her lips all the while down the Sheriff's neck.

"Your reasons for being angry with me for cuffing you are vastly different to my reasons for being angry at you for walking out on me, Miss Swan"

She doesn't go on to vocalize what those reasons might have been; the fact that she had wanted the younger woman, had craved her and had loathed being denied her. She suspects the Sheriff may just be smart enough to put two and two together and figure that part out for herself.

Emma sighs and closes her eyes, running her hands up the Mayor's hips in a way that seems promising until she begins to roll out from under the brunette.

"I should go"

Regina frowns, but allows the blonde to climb out from beneath her long-legged prison. She lowers herself down so that her butt rests on the desk, feeling monumentally deflated, despite her recent climax. She watches silently as the younger woman pulls her dress back over her head, fussing distractedly over the complex pattern of strings that cross over her pale shoulders.

Emma pulls hatefully at one of the small, curved straps that sits awkwardly across her collarbone, her eyes flickering over to the brunette's. Her shoulders droop at the expression ill-hidden on the Mayor's enviable features. She understands she has just been offered as close to an apology as she can hope to achieve, but she needs to get out of here. At least for the time being.

Regina's lips thin stoically as green eyes dart over to her's, her shoulders tensing as the blonde takes a hesitant step closer and presses her lips dryly against her own. A slender hand finds her bare thigh and squeezes tentatively and she suddenly pushes back, passionately into the Sheriff's kiss before the younger woman pulls away.

Sighing, the brunette works her fingers deftly over the whorls of black at the blonde's shoulders to pull the defiant fabric of her dress correctly into place. She applies extra pressure with her fingers as she completes her task, causing the younger woman to raise her eyes and find her gaze.

"You're so lucky"

The Sheriff's brow creases in confusion. The Mayor tucks blonde curls behind the younger woman's ear.

"Huh?"

"I'm not going to tell you that you're flawless... But you _are_ beautiful"

Emma stares back at her incredulously, and Regina struggles to hide her amusement. Instead, she nods curtly; the movement graceful, despite the fact that she still kneels atop the desk, her body intimately displayed. She offers the Sheriff a nonchalant shrug of her slender shoulders before pulling her gaping robe around her body.

"Go home and get some sleep, Sheriff...consider tonight a draw... I expect I'll see you sooner rather than later"


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **_Oh, you people are all so lovely giving me confidence to keep this fic going. In fact, you guys are SO lovely, I may just have to blame you all when I fail my degree due to the amount of time I spend updating this fic ;)_

_That said, apologies that this is a bit of a short update; this chapter may be a little awkward in itself as it doesn't finish at the point I had planned, but due to ever looming deadlines, I decided to upload what I had so far as I'm not sure how much time I'll have over the next few days. As always, your comments are hugely appreciated!_

* * *

The Mayor places the two- now sparkling clean- wine glasses back on their shelf. She closes the rich maplewood cupboard gently, shutting them into darkness. The majority of the candles the blonde lit on her arrival have burned down to nothing, but she goes about blowing out the flickering survivors methodically, before retreating to take a seat on one of the fine sofas where this all began. She stares into the flames that still lick at the sooty bricks of the hearth thoughtfully, running a small swatch of her silk robe repetitively through her fingers.

"Peculiar..."

She muses quietly. Earlier on in the week, when things had been moving so fast and furious her head had had trouble keeping up with her sex, she had negated to dwell on the changes to her relationship with the Sheriff. Tonight has changed this approach however, as has the week spent being denied time with the younger woman.

She is unsure whether this is something she views positively; not one to set herself up for disappointment, and, while she is loathe to admit it, she is in tune with her own feelings well enough to know that this is what she will feel should Emma now decide she wishes to call an end to their curious liaisons.

_It's just sex. You'll just find someone else. Perhaps someone better dressed and with fewer opinions._

Irritatingly, she is bemused to find that she no longer believes this to be the case. The sex, while being undeniably amazing, is still just that. She is impressed with the blonde's capabilities and with her surprising sensuality, but she knows that if this whole business was entirely physical she would be sound asleep right now rather than staring intently into the fire.

A frown creases across the smooth skin of her brow as she realises she might just like the Sheriff on a personal level as well... Not in a friendly way; there is little animosity between them and she doubts there ever will be. Perhaps 'like' is too strong a word.

No. She doesn't _like_ the Sheriff.

_But I don't hate her either._

Pulling herself from her reverie, the Mayor rises briskly to dampen the flames dancing within the fireplace, shaking her head as if to shake the young blonde from her thoughts.

As she closes the door to the drawing room behind her and pads up the stairs, she ponders with belated curiosity that the two of them have finished off a fair bit of wine. She also notes that she doesn't recall hearing the horrendous shuddering wheeze of the blonde's shitty little car.

_She walked all this way?... just for..._

She shrugs; waving away the thought with the notion that the woman must be partially insane and is therefore not to be worried about.

* * *

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Emma mutters under her breath as she stalks quickly through pitch black streets. Her logic is currently berating her caustically; demanding to know at what point she'd figured it'd be a good idea to wander around town in nothing but a slip of a dress and killer heels in mid December. Her muscles ache with the frigid cold and her teeth chatter restlessly behind wind-chapped lips.

"Swan, you fucking idiot"

The anger and- as much as she hates to admit the emotion- hurt that had flooded her system upon leaving the Mayor's mansion has now boiled down to a deep, simmering loathing as to her predicament, and, while this is slightly healthier on the mind, the lack of furious adrenaline leaves her body acutely aware of winter's wrath.

_Not to mention the fact that Regina's ill remark was never more ironic; bare legs, arms and chest flashing like beacons in the night. _

As if on cue- as she finally begins her way down Main Street- flat footsteps echo her own. Wishing for her gun, but sufficing to simply curl her fists, the Sheriff whirls round combatively to find the source of those accompanying little taps.

"Good evening, Sheriff"

"Dr Whale..."

_Ugh, why? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why him?_

"You're looking lovely tonight... as usual"

She turns to face him with cheeks flushed pink; whether in annoyance or simply due to the ever dropping temperature is up for debate.

"What do you want?"

"Want?... Oh I don't want anything... although perhaps, if you were to ask what I should_ like_, then I would very much like to ask you over for a drink or two?"

"Classy, what with your oh-so-successful dates with my roommate and all..."

She pulls at the hem of her dress warily; feeling suddenly very much on display. She quickens her pace in an attempt to outrun the doctor, but the peculiar young man simply matches her rapid footsteps.

"Precisely; they were unsuccessful, although, don't get me wrong, Mary Margaret is a wonderful young woman... but not one with such... aesthetic appeal.. as yourself, Miss Swan"

He raises his eyebrows at her pointedly while bright eyes roam shamelessly over the flesh she has on display. The blonde comes to an abrupt halt and rounds up on the doctor, angrily.

"Look, I'm just trying to get home so I can crawl under my duvet and sleep. Alone."

"Ah... so your date didn't go to plan then?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your dress says you were hoping to get lucky. Your mood suggests this wasn't the case?... The other party's loss, I can assure you, Sheriff"

"Whatever... Are you seriously going to follow me home? Are you not getting the hint?"

A small voice in the back of her mind scolds her for being rude, but goddamn it she just wants to fall into bed and forget this whole wretched night. Her limbs ache and her skin is uncomfortably tight with cold. Her chilled shaking has resulted in several small stumbles, causing her ankles to throb miserably over her high black heels.

"You come across as the sullen, sultry type; can't blame a man for trying. Most women would be flattered to be approached by a doctor"

Emma rolls her eyes, silently damning small-town habits and tosses her hair back as they continue down the tungsten-lit street at an almost comical pace; each trying to out step the other.

"Yeah? Well, not _this_ woman"

_So, you're a doctor; whoop di fucking doo. I suppose if you were a doctor of the psychiatric variety we may have something to talk about, after all, I damn well need my head examined after what I tried to do tonight... _

"You're sure?"

"Look, Whale, you say you wanted to ask me for a drink, and hell knows, I could do with one... but all I want to do right now is pretend this damn town doesn't exist and just pass out dreamlessly on my bed... perhaps not the most enticing of desires, but a true wish nonetheless... And if you would be so kind as to fuck off and leave me alone, my dream may just become a reality"

The Doctor looks taken aback and the Sheriff reprimands herself for her use of language as, finally, the tall man eases up in his pursuit and she finds herself stalking quickly ahead of him. She turns to offer a pathetic attempt at an apologetic 'goodnight', but catches him staring shamelessly at her ass and simply shrugs and continues to storm off home.

"This town would be so much more tolerable if there weren't any fucking people in it!"


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **_Well, the internet went down today, so I was simply **forced** to write and neglect all work till it came back on :)_

_This chapter is a little short on action, due to it being meant to be included with the one I posted yesterday. _

_Sorry this is a long note, just a couple of points: 1) Thank you all for continued interest/ support for this story, in response to my pondering on whether to start a new one or keep this one going, I'm glad your comments lead me to believe you all still like this! So I will keep writing! I currently have two ways I could take this; either completely AU and just carry on the scenes between the two women with my own little plots/ scenes, OR carry on the scenes between the two, but have the storyline relate to that on the show; i.e.: David and them MM getting arrested, Katheryn etc. and am interested if there is any strong preference in this?_

_2) I know I have shamelessly stolen the Nutella scene from my '**Morning After**' fic, but it's just something I can absolutely see those two doing._

_3) I don't know what the US version of 'Lemsip' is, but if anyone is wondering what the hell I'm on about, it's a medicine for cold/ flu/ sore throat._

_***commennnnts***_

* * *

"Emma!"

The schoolteacher smiles in surprise as she greets the blonde sat sprawled out at the kitchen table, her feet crossed neatly one over the other on its pitted surface. She is unaccustomed to seeing the Sheriff up and about so early before lunch, and, from the looks of things, her housemate has showered and dressed and everything.

_Wonders will never cease._

Mary Margaret makes her way over to the coffee maker, prodding at the blonde's feet as she passes in a silent request she remove them from the table. Emma rolls her eyes but swings her legs swiftly down, stifling a yawn and pulling her recently washed hair into a damp knot.

"You're up early?"

"Maybe you're just up late?"

The schoolteacher glances with momentary alarm at the old clock that hangs in the far corner. Seven twenty.

"Nope... it's you..."

"Ah, then I must have just wanted to hear the sounds of the birds waking up and watch the sunrise."

"Yes, because that sounds _so_ much like you..."

"_Or_ maybe I just woke up with a bitch of a cold and couldn't get back to sleep; I'll spare you any in-depth medical details, but I'd guess the shade I was coughing up could be called moss green"

"Ew."

"Very."

"Well, that's too bad, you don't _sound_ too good, actually."

"Gee, thanks."

Mary Margaret sighs; too used to her housemate's incessant quips to make the mistake of carrying on this little double act. Instead she switches the kettle on and pours a small sachet of Lemsip into a large mug, stirring in some honey once the water has come to the boil.

"Here"

"Thanks"

Emma takes the proffered mug and tries not to wrinkle her nose at it too obviously, or eye the school-teacher's coffee with visible envy. Taking a sip of the medicinal hot water she licks her lips and stifles another yawn.

Mary Margaret takes a seat across from the blonde and regards her with an ill-hidden grin.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, just wondering how long it's going to be before you come clean about where you keep sneaking off to..."

"...How do you mean?"

"Come on, Emma, you're clearly up to something! You weren't home until well after midnight again last night-"

"-I didn't realize you were keeping tabs?"

"I'm not! I went to bed at quarter past and you weren't back yet... and all last weekend you were nowhere to be found... so, go on, tell me... who do you keep creeping out to see?"

"Who says I'm seeing_ anyone_? Maybe I'm just going out for a run?"

"Ah yes, midnight running, that must be it... come on, Emma, don't be coy, you're _clearly_ seeing someone..."

"Ugh, you've been talking to Ruby"

"...Ruby?"

"No, not like that, never mind... look, can we just drop this?"

"We can, after you tell me who..."

"Mary Margaret..."

"It's not Gold, is it?"

"Ew, no! Why is that everyone's first guess?"

"Well, you two are always locking horns and you're definitely someone I can imagine liking a little... umm.. conflict-"

She shuts up swiftly, taking heed of the dark thunder crossing the Sheriff's brow. Holding her hands up in mock surrender she grins at the blonde who still shoots daggers with her glare.

"Ok, ok, not Gold!... Dr Whale?"

"No!"

"Hey, it's ok, I wouldn't mind..."

"Well, I would! The guy's an asshole!"

"He is a little bit of a... well, yes, you actually worded it quite well... Leroy?"

"As much as I'm sure our love for the drink could bring us together, I don't date guys I can use as a shelf to rest my beer on."

"Emma! That's mean!"

"No, it's not, it's true!"

"Maybe.. but it's not a very nice thing to say..."

"So? Maybe I'm just not a very nice person?"

The schoolteacher sighs as Emma regards her moodily over the top of her drink. The effect is somewhat diminished as the blonde breaks down into a fit of chesty coughing.

"No, you're a nice person, Emma, you're just good at hiding it sometimes."

"Like an emotional ninja..."

"Yes... whatever that is."

Mary Margaret smiles, shaking her head, and finds a packet of oatmeal in the cupboard beneath the kitchen island, mixing up a batch before placing it in the microwave. She goes about gathering together books and papers for class- the school holidays having just started, but her marking and paperwork still due for another three days- chatting companionably to her housemate as she hurries around the room.

Emma watches her scurry about amiably, moving to rest with her backside against in the kitchen units and grabbing a large pot of Nutella from the pantry. She reaches behind her for a spoon from the drying rack beside the sink and digs it deep into the soft chocolate; bringing a heaped mound of the spread to her mouth and savoring it absent-mindedly.

The schoolteacher finally concludes that she has all of her things together and hurries over to the microwave as it pings to let her know her breakfast is ready. She helps herself to some dried berries from a jar by the window and scatters them over the steaming bowl before digging in to several large mouthfuls. Turning to face the Sheriff, she frowns at the blonde, rolling her eyes.

"Hey!"

Emma blinks in confusion as the jar of chocolate spread is expertly pinched from between her fingers and the bowl of her housemate's remaining oatmeal is shoved firmly in its place.

"Eat something normal for a change, especially if you're sick."

"I'm not _sick_, it's just a cold, and chocolate spread _is _normal, you can buy it anywhere!"

"To put on bread, not to eat on its own like ice cream!"

"Ooh, ice cream!"

The blonde shoves the bowl of congealed porridge away onto the counter and turns around to the freezer behind her with a flourish.

"Emma!"

"Jeez, _mom_, relax, I was just kidding..."

"Uhuh... eat the damn oatmeal"

Emma throws her a petulant glare before playing with her spoon childishly in the less than appetizing mush that cakes the sides of the bowl. Rolling her eyes, Mary Margaret reclaims the abused breakfast and proceeds to eat the rest of it herself.

"Fine, go hungry, suit yourself."

* * *

"Henry, come back here, please."

The Mayor glances up from her book and waits for her son to return to the kitchen. She regards him with a fond irritability, brushing his sleep-induced cowlick to the side and plucking fussily at his sweater.

"Go change into a thicker sweater, it's freezing out, and, if you're going out to play in the woods with Emma, put on some old jeans, these are for indoors only."

"I'm not going out to see Emma..."

His answer is reflexive, not wishing to get into trouble for sneaking out to see the blonde. In actual fact, that is exactly where he's heading; Emma having agreed, after a little pleading over the walkie, to meet him at their recently installed make-shift swing. With a little extra graft, he'd even managed to convince her to pick up two hot chocolates on the way down. Not that she'd seemed to mind the notion, muttering something about a lack of food and the onset of sure starvation.

"Oh, really?"

Regina raises an eyebrow disbelievingly and purses her lips. Henry rolls his eyes

_Why does he have to do that in the exact same way she does?_

before studying his shoes sheepishly.

"It's the first day of holidays... I don't have any homework and Emma said she doesn't have any paperwork to do... please?"

"I don't like you lying to me, Henry."

She frowns at the small boy sternly, but she'd be lying herself if she said she hadn't expected her son to be meeting up with the Sheriff. An oddly relieved warmth spreads to her lips, although she quickly tells herself that she hadn't, once again, been mildly concerned about the blonde getting herself home last night without either catching pneumonia or being mown down by a car.

_Idiotic woman; walking all this way in those ridiculous heels when there's not even a goddamn footpath some of the time._

The fact that Emma has clearly agreed to meet up with her son would also suggest that the blonde isn't sobbing into her pillow like an emotional wreck. The brunette supposes such expectancies may point to herself having a profoundly presumptuous grasp on the Sheriff's feelings towards her- and she's loathe to admit she's perhaps a little disappointed- but she shrugs this thought aside irritably.

As if she hasn't spent the past ten hours replaying their previous meeting over and over in her mind.

"Go up and change and then I have something I'd like you to give Emma when you see her."

Henry glances up at her quizzically, but she flaps her hand at him until he scampers off upstairs to throw on some more suitable clothes.

She sighs and pulls the small manilla envelope from her suit pocket; assessing its peculiar weight thoughtfully. She considers writing the blonde's name across the front, but opts against it, deciding there to be little point if Henry is to be the one delivering the letter.

Henry comes skidding back into view, now clad in grass-stained jeans and an incredibly baggy gray hoodie emblazoned with Red Sox branding.

"Where did you get that?"

"It's Emma's"

_Of course it is. _

"I was unaware you were so short of clothes we were having to accept charity now"

She sniffs primly, and holds out the envelope to her son.

"Give this to Miss Swan when you see her, and under no circumstances do you lose this, do you understand? Or there will be consequences, young man."

He takes the envelope gingerly, rocking it curiously back and forth when he feels something small and solid slide around gently inside.

"What is it?"

"That is none of your concern, don't be nosy; it's rude, and don't you go opening it either, Henry, it's an official item between the Sheriff and myself, do you hear me?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes... Mom"

"Good, now off you go... and Henry... have fun"

"... Thanks!"

"And wear your coat!"

She shouts after him as the small boy runs eagerly out the door.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **_Sorry about the wait, things have been a little crazy in my actual, non-key-tapping life, but here's a longer chapter to make up for it. Also, I am aware that it has been a few chapters now with minimal Emma/ Regina scenes, but, as you will see at the end of this instalment, the next chapter will be purely centred on these two. Thanks for your continuing support, and... I really should stop begging so desperately, but I will anyway... comments are, as always, greatly appreciated._

* * *

"Emma!"

"_Ah_! Crap! Watch it!"

The blonde holds the paper cups of hot chocolate quickly away from herself on instinct; warm, brown froth spattering up from the mouth pieces as she jumps in surprise. Henry removes his small hands sheepishly from the Sheriff's shoulders, where he had grabbed her, unsuspectingly, from behind, having spotted her sat patiently on a fallen tree beside their makeshift swing.

"Sorry!"

He scrambles up to sit opposite her; straddling the mossy log with his sneakered feet dangling a good few inches off the ground on either side. She hands him one of the steaming cups and carefully moves herself into a similar position to face him.

"It's ok, I'd just rather not be _wearing_ it, that's all"

Henry grins and takes a sip of his drink, eyeing the blonde curiously. Being a ten year old boy, he has never before spent much time contemplating the Sheriff's use of makeup- other than having been informed by his mother, shortly after Emma's arrival, that her resultant look is 'cheap'- but seeing the pale woman completely barefaced now, he notices the difference instantly.

"That bad, huh?"

Emma gives him a knowing glance and he smiles brightly, shaking his head with all the genuine honesty of a small child. She chuckles huskily and takes a sip of her own hot chocolate; lamenting the way her current ill health allows her to feel the burn but not taste the sweetness.

"So you managed to get out the house then? Is your mom working?"

"No, she doesn't have any meetings today, she'll probably spend the day baking or something"

Emma raises an eyebrow; partially at the idea of the brunette arms deep in flour, and partially due to the fact that there is no way Regina's sharp, watchful eye would allow her son to leave the house undetected.

"Does she know you're here?"

"Uhuh"

"And she was ok with that?"

Henry shrugs his shoulders, resting his chin thoughtfully on the lid of his cup.

"She didn't really say anything, apart from that I had to change into my jeans... oh, and to give you this..."

He reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out the small manilla envelope, holding it out to the blonde who eyes it warily before taking it gingerly from his small hand.

Emma frowns when she feels the small object, lightly weighting the envelope on one side. She glances up at Henry, whose eyes are raptly fixed on the letter in her hand, before he realizes his nosiness isn't going unnoticed and looks away sheepishly, seeming suddenly absorbed in his hot chocolate. She feels her own cheeks pinken; mystified at what the Mayor could possibly wish to send her, and unsure whether whatever the answer to that may be is suitable for the young boy to see.

Henry's curiosity gets the better of him, and he looks back up at the Sheriff inquisitively.

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know, kid, knowing your mom it could be anything from a dinner invitation to anthrax, in fact, the second is more likely..."

"What's anthrax?"

She looks up distractedly and realizes she has been musing aloud. She shakes her head, doubting that discussing methods of biological warfare is a good idea with a kid that already believes his mother to be an evil queen.

"Nothing... a band..."

She shrugs at Henry's perplexed expression and slides her finger deftly beneath the envelope's flap, sliding it open with a neat swipe of her finger. Peering curiously inside, a frown slowly settles across her brow.

"What is it?"

She pulls out the small item delicately and holds it up between them.

"A key?"

Henry's eyes flicker with recognition and a frown creases his forehead to match Emma's uncannily.

"That's one of my mom's skeleton keys..."

"Skeleton keys? To what?"

"I don't know... she has loads of them"

"What's this one for?"

"I don't know, they all look the same..."

Emma studies the key closely; not quite sure what to make of it. She checks the envelope for any sign of a clue but it is otherwise empty.

"...Weird"

Tipping back the rest of her hot chocolate, the blonde shoves the empty cup under her bag to be discarded later and pushes the small, silver key deep into her jeans pocket. She offers Henry a winning smile- an expression until recently saved _only_ for the small boy and occasionally her housemate- and swings her legs up and around, jumping easily from the log.

"So, I figured our swing worked so well, we should try a treehouse"

Henry's eyes light up and widen comically, causing the Sheriff to laugh until she throws herself into a coughing fit. Henry companionably thumps her on the back and scrambles off the log.

"With what?"

"Well, it won't be anything fancy, but I used to make them as a kid just with sticks and branches and stuff we found lying around. We just need to find a tree with the right fork in its branches and then we can lay the sticks across to make a small shelter... it's quite fun..."

She tags this last part on dubiously, gradually realizing that what she had thought would be something Henry would enjoy immensely, may actually seem rather lame in this day and age. She imagines he has seen a great many expertly crafted tree houses, and supposes a simple roof of ill-dispersed twigs may seem rather lacking in comparison. To her relief, Henry lets out a drawling 'Yeah, that sounds sick!', which she expects is her own influence- and she expects this with a marginal sense of pride- and immediately goes about collecting suitable branches.

* * *

"Easy, kid, you got it?"

Henry glances down at the blonde with glistening eyes that are slightly too wide for her liking, but experience over the past couple of hours has taught her not to keep pestering him on whether or not he is comfortable being up at the height they currently occupy. She imagines the answer is, in fact, no, but the small brunette seems determined to prove himself. She would scold him over his perceived necessity to do so, but knows she would do exactly the same. Instead she she smiles up at him encouragingly; keeping her grip on his skinny shin firm, but casual.

They currently reside a good eight feet clear of the forest floor; Emma with her feet planted squarely on a thick branch jutting out of an old leafless maple tree, her hips steadied against the smaller branch on which Henry clings as he carefully pushes a handful of twigs amongst the branches they have already managed to lay across the highest fork of the tree. She has given up offering to do this herself, and so simply keeps herself and, by default, Henry, steady as they work.

"Yeah... I got it"

He speaks through gritted teeth, the concentration written clearly across his face, but at the tightening of Emma's fingers he looks down at her briefly with an encouraging grin. His cheeks are flushed scarlet with the brisk December air, and his hair sticks up in all the wrong places. She can't help but watch him humorously as he goes about each, meticulous movement; delighting in the fact that today is about them just having fun, and that, for once, the damn fairytale book has remained unopened in his rucksack.

It's not that she doesn't acknowledge the fact that_ without_ the book, she would most likely be sat trawling through incriminating technical data in her apartment back in Boston; vodka in hand, Waits on the music system... it's just, sometimes she worries that, once Henry realises how fucking nuts this whole fairy tale thing is, he won't have a use for her anymore.

She has found this thought more and more unsettling.

"Nice one, ok, come back down and we'll get some more, I think it'll only take two more trips!"

"Wicked!"

_Now that one's definitely on her... thoroughly Boston. _

Henry shimmies slowly back down the branch on which he perches so that his jean-clad butt pushes against Emma's hand and she holds him steady as he swings his leg round to lower his feet onto the branch below.

She doesn't say anything, but he can see the cautious worry in the set of her jaw and he decides he doesn't want the blonde to think him babyish and so lowers himself down quickly to land with his small feet beside hers in one deft motion.

The achieving grin on his face is short lived as the weary branch they now both stand on gives an alarming crack- reminiscent of a gunshot- and the two find themselves suddenly falling gracelessly to the ground. Enough goes through the Sheriff's head to grab Henry and pull him to her, leaning a little into the fall so that she is somewhat beneath him, but it is a vague and harried thought; instinctual.

"Ow..."

They land in a tangled heap, Henry with his arms flung, panicked, around the blonde's neck; his small frame cushioned clumsily by hers, but not enough to avoid his fair share of scrapes and duly blooming bruises. Emma blinks up at him through watering eyes, but can't help herself from letting out a small, shaken, laugh. He gingerly rolls himself off her, allowing her to sit up with a wince and survey the damage.

They are surrounded by a litter of snapped twigs and foliage, while the guilty branch lies forlorn to their left. The sweatshirt she'd leant Henry now sports a healthy rip across its right sleeve and a small amount of blood wells up from a scrape along his forearm to match the bloodied grazes at his palms. She panics when she takes in a dark smear across his forehead, but a second glance reveals the mark to be nothing but mud.

The Sheriff hasn't faired any better; her own hands sport scarlet swatches where the skin has been torn ruthlessly as a result of uselessly grabbed branches. The knees of her jeans are ripped and bloodied and a thin laceration grazes her forehead before tapering off into her hairline.

"Holy crap... are you alright, kid?"

She takes his arm gently in her hands and rolls up the ruined sleeve to assess the damage to his arm. He doesn't cry, for which she is grateful, and the cut is shallow; just a sporadic beading of blood as the damage is only to the very top layer of his skin. Henry rubs at the muddy streak at his forehead tentatively, checking himself over before looking up at the Sheriff to give her a shaky nod.

"Wow... well... at least the treehouse survived!"

She points up above them where a perfect thatching of interwoven leaves and twigs create a small shelter above them. Henry follows her gaze and lets out a breathy chuckle before glancing back at the blonde and suddenly noticing the small trickle of blood making its way lazily down her cheekbone.

"Emma! You're hurt!"

"Huh, where?"

She notes her grazed knees distractedly, but is surprised when Henry touches his small hand to her cheek, hazel eyes wide with concern. She rubs her hand curiously across the side of her face and raises an eyebrow when her fingers come back red.

"Oh, I guess I got cut by a branch or something"

"Does it hurt?"

"Nah, I'll live... well... actually, if your mom finds out..."

She bites her lip nervously, but Henry gives her a burlesque wink- something she has been teaching him, and he is finally able to do without screwing up the entire side of his face- and points over to his rucksack.

"It's ok, I have my coat, she'll never notice"

Emma grins down at him, before licking her fingers childishly and rubbing at the dirt that still clings to his pale forehead.

"Eww!"

Henry pushes her away, laughing, wiping at his face with his sleeve.

"Don't you 'eww' me! I'm just trying to help out here!"

"I don't want your gross spit on me!"

"Is that so?"

She leans menacingly over him and makes as if to spit while he shrieks giddily and scrambles away laughing.

"Emma!"

"What?"

He scoops up a handful of leaves and pours them over her in a flurry, sprinting away, only to have strong arms encircle him and tackle him, carefully, to the floor. He crows delightedly and follows suit when the blonde pushes herself up and stretches out so that she sits with her back to the log on which they had perviously perched; breath coming out in misted pants and hair spilling everywhere in a spectacular mess. He peers up at her out of the corner of his eye, mischievously, unconsciously rearranging his limbs so that his position mimics the Sheriff's exactly.

"Your head's bleeding still"

"Oh yeah? I guess I'm just a poor, wounded survivor of the terrible treehouse accident of 2012... tragic."

"Hey, I'm wounded too!"

He shows her his scraped arm, waving the limb around impressively and she sighs dramatically, eyes glittering impishly in the fading daylight.

"Yes, but not like I am... I don't know if I'll make it back... you might have to carry me"

"I'm _can't_ carry you!"

"Then you'll have to go on without me, my injuries, they're too severe"

"Mine are too! My injuries are _totally_ severe! My hands are worse than yours are!"

"Oh? Well I've lost more blood than you have!"

"I have more bruises!"

"Well mine are deeper!"

"Mine hurt more!"

"Do they?"

"Uhuh... _way_ more than yours!"

She laughs and gives him a nudge as he pulls at her hands to display the palms; all the better to compare their war wounds.

* * *

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, Miss Swan"

Regina growls angrily as she storms through the irksome fortress of trees. She inwardly damns the fact that she had declined to change before heading out; her sharp heels sinking maddeningly into the hateful packed dirt of the forest floor.

She has spent the day on edge with the knowledge of Henry being out with the blonde; hating the very fact itself, but knowing by now that her son will only strive harder to find ways around her rules if she forbids him from seeing the Sheriff. She has paced her impressive kitchen irritably; failing to see what those two could possibly be doing in the woods all this time.

She wonders what Emma has made of her little gift.

She has been irate and ill-tempered since the moment Henry scampered out the door, but she has forced herself to keep busy. To keep herself in check. Until now. The cold steel of the winter sky is fast deepening to a bruised purple and the temperature has dropped accordingly.

She had waited until half past five- half an hour past the time Henry knows he is expected home- before wrestling on her coat and driving her stately black benz down to the small turning point she knows to be closest to her son's new meeting place, fuming loudly the entire way.

As she stumbles over a gnarled upturned root she wonders if, perhaps, this despicable insolence isn't another degree of punishment on the blonde's behalf.

"Go to hell!"

She glares at the accusatory root murderously, scarlet painted lips pursing in distaste. Why anyone would_ choose_ to spend their time in this dump is beyond her. But then, she is aware of the Sheriff's poor taste by now.

Finally, as she stalks briskly up a remarkably steep incline- with more grace than anyone should be capable of when wearing Jimmy Choo's in a December Maine forest- she hears the telling murmur of voices. Cresting the hill, she can see her son and the blonde chatting away with their backs resting companionably against a filthy fallen tree, showing no intention of moving anytime soon despite the Indigo haze of twilight settling merrily about them.

Her first instinct is to storm over from her secluded viewpoint and give the younger woman a piece of her mind; the anger at being left alone in her mansion to stew indefinitely still coursing hotly in her blood. She struggles to quell this urge, however, not wishing to insitgate a blow out infront of Henry- for fear of him instantly siding with Emma- as well as not being entirely sure as to her current situation with the blonde.

She finds that now she is actually within screaming distance of the Sheriff- and, incidentally, viewing distance- she is less inclined to do so.

Instead she watches as Henry points to something in his hand and then appears to do the same to the blonde's hands. She can hear the jovial quip of their voices but fails to decipher any words, however the tone of Emma and Henry's conversation is painfully obvious. They are simply 'assing around' as she imagines the blonde would put it. Something that she herself and Henry haven't done in as long as she can remember.

The rage that this thought conjures depletes defeatedly as she continues to observe the way the Sheriff chats to the small boy. Emma has her head cocked to the side, regarding him with an ever sarcastic-tinged smile; the body the brunette has come to know intimately well swaddled in her parka- _that fucking parka_- and surprisingly baggy jeans which appear to have obnoxious rips at their muddied knees. The blonde nods attentively as Henry chatters away at a mile a minute, and, despite her loathing at her exclusion to this little scenario, she finds herself intrigued by the openness across the younger woman's face as she regards her son.

Mentally shaking herself, she gathers her thoughts and marches briskly out from her shadowed vantage point and into clear view.

"Henry! What time do you call this?!"

"Mom!... I"

"And _you_! You should have sent him home at least an hour ago!"

"Regina..."

Henry and Emma scramble quickly to their feet, facing the Mayor; Henry with his eyes cast down sheepishly and Emma with her hands on her hips, expression suddenly hard. The brunette matches it easily, before dark eyes widen upon taking in her son's ripped sweater and grazed hands.

"Sheriff, why is my son bleeding?"

"I'm fine! I just-"

"I didn't ask_ you_, Henry"

"It's nothing, we just... we were climbing a tree and a branch broke... he's fine."

"Oh really? Bloodied and filthy is _'fine'_ in your book?"

"It's just a scrape!"

"And I suppose that's what you'll argue with the doctors if it becomes infected?"

"Oh for god's sake, Regina..."

Emma blows her hair back irritably and the brunette glimpses the thin laceration just above her temple. Running her eyes briskly up and down the Sheriff, the Mayor takes in her bloodied knees and palms and sighs. Turning her attention down to her son she beckons him sternly.

"Come on, Henry, it's time to go home."

He nods, defeatedly, and collects his backpack before trudging off behind the brunette. Emma collects her own belongings and waits hesitantly, not wishing to endure an awkward trek back to the main path in the wake of the Mayor.

Regina looks back behind as she reaches the edge of the small clearing and takes in the blonde as she nibbles thoughtfully on her bottom lip, attention cast absently downwards. Sighing, the brunette raises her voice and addresses the younger woman primly.

"Next time, Miss Swan, I expect him back unharmed and before dark. Goodnight."

Emma glances quickly back at the Mayor, holding her gaze momentarily.

_Next time?_

"Uh, yeah, sorry... ummm... night... Night Henry!"

* * *

"Coming!"

Mary Margaret hurries over to the door, hobbling a little as she struggles to straighten out a wrinkle in her tights. She sighs distractedly, wondering who would be knocking at this time in the evening, and, of all nights, when she has somewhere to be. She briefly considers shouting for Emma to come down and play hostess, but decides that by the time she manages to coax the blonde out of her room, whoever stands at the other side of their front door may have died of old age.

_Introverted, sure, but a better description would just be bone idol..._

Running a hand through her dark hair distractedly she pulls open the front door to apologise to her visitor that they may need to come at a more suitable time. Unless it happens to be Ruby, who seems to be one of the few people the blonde doesn't mind traipsing down to see.

It's not.

"... Madame Mayor...?"

"Good evening, Miss Blanchard, were you going somewhere?"

Dark eyes roam distastefully over the schoolteacher's pastel toned outfit and shiny pink lips.

"I was actually... sorry, did you... what do you..."

"It matters not, I was actually hoping to speak to Miss Swan, is she around?"

"uh, she's in her room, I can call her-"

"No need."

The schoolteacher steps back automatically as the brunette strides authoritatively into the living room and makes her way briskly to the wrought iron stairs she knows lead to Emma's bedroom. Eying the older woman warily, Mary Margaret watches her ascend the black steps with sharp taps of her heels and sighs, shrugging on her coat and making her way out of the apartment.

_Well I'm sure _that_ will go down well._


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **_Sorry about the wait, I currently have a whole lot of different fics running at the same time, and several of the House MD ones are supposed to be Christmas presents and so have been taking priority. That said, I am still going to continue my **'All Magic Comes at a Price'** fic between these two, it just appears to be abandoned because I suck at organising my time! Please comment, as always, and if I don't upload before then, Happy Holidays!_

* * *

Regina stands in the doorway of the blonde's bedroom, finding she is completely unsurprised by everything presented in the scene before her. Emma's parka is strewn across the floor like a fur-cuffed corpse, falling over and under her muddy boots. The small room smells of peaty whisky, mingled with the much sweeter smell of, well, the Sheriff herself. Her gun sits forgotten on a small, wonky bedside, and the woman in question lies propped up in bed- of course still wearing her filthy, ruined clothes from the woods- with her eyes shut.

The Mayor knows better than assume her to be asleep; the blaring music coming from Emma's headphones is loud enough for her to be able to hear it relatively clearly from where she stands at the threshold. She briefly contemplates simply launching herself at the blonde to delight in the shock sure to cross the younger woman's face, but decides this is too crude an act. In fact she imagines it to be something the Sheriff would pride herself on doing.

Instead she flickers the light switch on and off curtly. The erratic light bleeding through the thin skin at her eyelids causing the blonde's eyes to flutter open instantly. Upon seeing whom her unexpected guest is, her mouth, too, falls open in surprise. She pulls the headphones away and switches off her mp3.

"Good evening, Miss Swan."

"Regina... what are you doing here?"

_Good question._

"Well, dear, as you ask; I have just spent the best part of the evening scrubbing at my son's jeans- which are _ruined_, by the way- before battling him into a hot bath and cleaning up the numerous cuts and scrapes-"

"-Look, like I said, it was an accident! You don't think I feel bad the kid fell!? Why you think you can just come round here and-"

Regina holds up a hand to silence the blonde; her expression easily mistakable for disdain, but there is an undertone of sweetness to be found in the words which follow so strange the younger woman seems not to know how to respond.

"- which were simply crawling with dirt. Now, I haven't come here to do your laundry, Miss Swan, nor do I plan on running you a bath, but I had a feeling that you would lack the good sense to see to your injuries, and, as this town has just the one Sheriff- who has so far failed to secure herself a Deputy- it would seem prudent she take slightly better care of herself."

Emma opens and closes her mouth, searching for an answer, or at the very least; a sensical retort. She glances down at her knees distractedly, begrudgingly taking in their dirt-blooded state. She wishes she'd changed into sweatpants upon returning home; thus saving herself this awkwardness, but as it is, she doesn't have much in the way of argument towards the Mayor.

Regina takes the blonde's silence as invitation and struts authoritatively into her room to perch delicately on the edge of the bed.

Green eyes dart across her face searchingly, and the brunette follows suit before pulling a small bundle from her handbag that the Sheriff recognizes, after a moment's scrutiny, to be a first aid kit. Emma raises an eyebrow, the left corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. Her mirth is quickly dampened when bright sienna coals flicker up to meet her gaze cooly and the Mayor begins to unwrap the items she imagines she will need.

"If you would take your jeans off, dear"

"...You can't be serious!"

Regina glances back up at the blonde and takes in the indignant blush that creeps across her cheeks. She licks her bottom lip curiously, not sure whether it is her request that the Sheriff should undress or simply the fact that she has caught the younger woman idly ignoring her injuries that sparks Emma's incredulous response. Deciding it doesn't really matter, she simply waits; knowing that her ominous presence so close to the blonde will demand her eventual compliance.

"Well, how else would you propose we do this?"

"I don't propose _we_ do anything! I'm a grown woman and perfectly capable of looking after myself"

"The state of your knees would suggest otherwise"

"It's just a few grazes, Regina!... I'm fine."

This last part is quieter, kinder, and she shrugs awkwardly at the older woman. The Mayor sighs, rolling her eyes in a way similar to that in which she rolls them at Henry when he is being particularly stubborn.

"I'm sure you are, dear, but I doubt obstinacy alone will immunize you against infection... now... please..."

She gestures with a well-manicured hand towards the Sheriff's dirty jeans, and, after a moments irritable hesitation, Emma gets up from the bed with a sigh and pulls her sweatshirt up enough to work her fingers deftly at her belt buckle.

The jeans are baggy- not reminiscent of the blonde's usual ass-defining style- and their removal requires none of the salacious hip-wiggling the Mayor has grown accustomed to. Regina muses on this as the Sheriff kicks the ruined denim smartly from her feet. She supposes it sets the tone for their current situation; there is nothing sexual in the way Emma presents herself today, and the brunette imagines there are still some ill feelings from the night before. Glancing briefly about the room, she spots the ridiculously high heels the younger woman had stalked out on in the early hours of the morning- their soles visibly caked with mud- and she sighs once again as the bedsprings groan with the blonde's weight as she clambers back into place on top of her uncharacteristically feminine bedding.

_It's a good thing this little scene is so devoid of sexual tension as there is no way _anything_ is about to transpire on top of that sickeningly girly repeat pattern of snowdrops; the paisley print practically screams 'Mary Margaret'. _

Despite such thoughts, Regina allows her gaze to travel the pale expanse of the Sheriff's bare legs; throwing an appreciative glance at the simple, black cotton bikini briefs that contrast prettily with the younger woman's milky skin. She runs her hand up the slender shin that rests closest to her, but finishes the gesture by simply propping Emma's leg at a more accessible angle and assessing the damage to her skinny knee.

"God, woman, what the hell did you _do_?"

She frowns at the bloodied, broken flesh; tearing open an antiseptic wipe neatly with her teeth. Emma peers down at her injuries curiously, prodding at one of the uglier looking cuts with her finger.

"Yes, poking at it with your dirty fingers, that's _sure_ to help!"

Regina taps the blonde's hands away fussily and begins to rub at the damaged skin with the wipe, applying gentle pressure and swiping methodically. The Sheriff lets out a quiet hiss through gritted teeth as the bite of the alcohol stings cruelly, but keeps her leg obediently in position.

"I don't know, I think I probably dragged my legs across a branch or something as we fell"

"Hmm... it looks like it; you've done quite an impressive job here, Miss Swan, you'll be lucky if you don't end up with a scar or two... Henry said you were building a tree house?"

"Yeah"

"Aren't you a little _old_ to climbing around like a lunatic?"

"I wasn't building it for _me_..."

She mutters sourly at the brunette, wondering just how much truth lies within this statement.

She points to a small trashcan at the end of the bed as the wipe the Mayor uses to clean up her knee has become orange with blood and dirt-stained. Regina leans over to discard the soiled wipe- her breath breezing momentarily against the wet flesh at the blonde's knee, turing the alcoholic residue instantly cold- and glimpses the numerous cans and bottles that take residence in the black trashcan. She raises an eyebrow at the Sheriff who glares back at her challengingly.

Deciding against commenting on the can's contents- although some really quite exemplary quips about off licenses and recycling plants spring to mind- the brunette opts instead to simply offer the younger woman a knowing smirk and sprays her knee with an aerosol of Savlon.

"_Shit_!"

Emma jerks her leg back roughly, accidentally kicking the Mayor's forearm with her woolen socked foot. Regina growls and grabs the offending limb at the ankle and pulls it firmly back into place, wiping away the stray yellow marks that now streak the blonde's creamy skin.

"_Really_, dear, even Henry doesn't fuss this much."

"I'm not_ fussing_! And _Henry _probably knows to expect that shit to be fucking _freezing_! What even is it?!"

The Mayor sighs dramatically and hands the younger woman the canister to clue herself up, gently placing a white patch of gauze to her knee and sticking it neatly in place with some white medi-tape. She covers the patch with a larger waterproof plaster, before pulling up Emma's other leg to repeat the process.

When she gets to the point where she needs to use the Savlon spray once again, the Mayor plucks it from slender fingers and looks up pointedly at the blonde.

"I'm going to spray this now."

Her tone is suitably patronizing and Emma throws her a withering look causing the brunette to smirk. She coats the younger woman's knee with a fine spray of yellowing antiseptic and patches her up quickly.

"Very fetching"

She expects a grumbled retort as the blonde looks really quite sorry for herself with her bandaged knees, but the Sheriff offers her a coy wink and a small smile. Regina rolls her eyes with an irritation she doesn't actually feel before kneeling up onto the bed and taking the younger woman's chin in her hand. She is acutely aware of the way Emma tenses at this new, more intimate contact, and glances briefly into hypnotically green eyes. She can't quite read the expression held within those emerald orbs, but she recognizes the wary pull to the Sheriff's mouth and gently uses her fingers to coax the blonde's head to the side; making her intent clear.

"This is pretty nasty cut, Sheriff"

"It doesn't really hurt"

"It doesn't have to, but I don't like the way it tapers off into your hair... make sure you wash it tonight"

She runs her finger gently over the red tinged flesh surrounding the laceration, her heart beating a little faster then usual as she leans into the younger woman's personal space.

"I will..."

Emma's eyes flicker up to study the Mayor as the brunette remains raised above her; dark eyes glistening tantalizingly and plump bottom lip caught between perfect white teeth. She smiles timidly and waits for the older woman to pull back; feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Regina lets her gaze linger on the blonde's pretty pink lips for a moment before closing her eyes and closing the distance. She makes a disagreeing noise deep in her throat when slim fingers find her shoulders and gently push her away. Opening her eyes she stares at the Sheriff in confusion, trying to keep the wounded feeling gnawing at her gut clear from crossing her features.

_But this was supposed to make everything ok again. Why can't you see that I'm trying to rectify whatever went wrong last night... _

"Emma..."

The younger woman observes the hurt flicker in the Mayor's dark eyes and smiles apologetically.

"It's not... I'm not... thank you, for all of this, but... I don't... I have a cold is all"

As if on cue, she coughs painfully, her voice hoarse when she continues.

"This town has just the one Mayor- who fails to allow anyone to offer her guidance- it would seem prudent she didn't go getting herself sick..."

Sharp white teeth flash in a lopsided grin and the brunette bites back her own responding smirk, opting instead to flick her hair back airily and begin fussing over the first aid items sprawled out on Emma's hideous bedspread.

"Yes, well, whose fault is that, Miss Swan, that you should find yourself suffering with a cold?"

"I imagine you're hinting at it being mine?"

"Hmm, well, it's hardly surprising, what with you storming-... leaving last night without so much as a jacket, wearing those heels to walk all the way back home... you're lucky a cold is _all _you got! Honestly, dear, what if you had been approached by someone, dressed like that?"

Emma fights down the contrary surge of anger that floods quickly through her blood, recognizing the concern hidden within the disdain dripping from the Mayor's silky tone.

"Unfortunately, I was, Dr Whale is _not_ a man who takes the word 'no' without a great deal of force."

Dark eyes flicker dangerously, the brunette's voice hard with ice.

"Dr Whale approached you?"

"He requested I join him for drinks..."

"I see... and did you?"

The blonde stares up at the Mayor incredulously, before rolling her eyes and letting the sarcasm drawl hotly from her lips.

"Oh yeah, _sure_, a man I hardly know came bothering me in the street and I just couldn't resist the urge to let him take me home and liquor me up before bending me over his couch and fucking me like I was-"

She catches the steel in Regina's eyes and the murderous snarl playing across scarlet lips and throws her hands up in irritable defeat.

"Of_ course_ I didn't join him for fucking drinks, Regina!"

She sighs moodily at she watches the hardness in the older woman's face lessen slightly. Cocking her head to the side she regards the brunette curiously, running a long strand of hair silkily through her fingers.

"Why... are you jealous?"

Regina splutters before glaring at the Sheriff haughtily, sniffing in her distaste.

"Miss Swan, of the many ways there are to spend an evening; watching you pound back shots while running your filthy mouth is _not_ one I deem desirable... I merely think it's inappropriate of Dr Whale to be harassing you in the street"

"Uhuh..."

Rolling her eyes, the Mayor pushes herself from Emma's bed, feeling oddly deflated at how this evening has ended. Green eyes follow her movements curiously before falling on the crumpled heap of denim that lies abandoned beside the brunette's feet. Looking up inquisitively, the blonde places her hand on the Mayor's arm to stop her from making an further progress in leaving.

"The key... what's it for?"

Regina looks down intently, her eyes roaming over the ernest pale face inches from her own; attention flickering momentarily to the thin scarlet line running back from Emma's temple. She smiles saucily, once more finding the Sheriff's intent gaze.

"Oh, I'll leave that to _you_ to figure out, dear... I imagine once you do, you'll be ready to use it"

"Wait... what?"

Emma frowns in confusion, growling when the brunette offers her nothing but a mocking shrug before taking a step back.

Regina picks up her bag to leave; satisfied that there is still a chance of a little fun to be had between them, but admittedly a little sour at the way the Sheriff seems momentarily disinterested in playing along. Nodding her farewell, she turns briskly to take her leave before the quiet groan of the blonde's bedsprings has her turning back to the younger woman curiously.

Emma sits perched on the edge of the bed, head cocked thoughtfully to the side, looking really rather lovely in just her thick gray sweater and little cotton panties.

_Not that she needs to be let in on this fact. _

"Regina..."

"Can I help you, Miss Swan?"

"... Are you sure you have no interest in running me a bath?"


	22. Chapter 22

_****_**A/N: **_well, a little late for christmas but happy holidays anyway! I really need to stop writing when tipsy to avoid grammar mistakes... As this is unlikely to happen, if there are any budding betas out there, let me know! Also, be my late sexy Santas and fill my stockings with comments! :)_

* * *

_"Regina..."_

_"Can I help you, Miss Swan?"_

_"... Are you sure you have no interest in running me a bath?"_

The brunette raises an eyebrow, studying the Sheriff intently from her position in the doorway. Emma eyes her back cooly, fully aware of the way the Mayor's dark, chocolate eyes flicker favorably over her semi-clad form. She decides she doesn't much care; pushing herself up from the bed with a nonchalant shrug while subsequently offering the darker woman a better view of her bare legs. Regina runs her tongue across her bottom lip, admiring the somehow teenage gap between the blonde's slender legs and the simple black cotton to which it leads.

"I suppose I ought to make sure you clean that head wound sufficiently."

Her response is snide and she mimics Emma's shrug as though the notion bears her little interest. This lack of sentiment is easily overlooked however, as both women know this is just a formality at this point. Emma smiles and pads lightly over to the doorway, gesturing with a sweep of her arm that the Mayor should proceed down the steep iron staircase. Regina complies, wondering if she should call Sydney and let him know that her meeting looks to be taking longer than she'd expected and advising him she will be back later to relieve him of watching Henry. She decides this really isn't her problem and doubts the peculiar ex-reporter has anywhere he needs to be.

"Which way?"

The brunette hesitates as she reaches the bottom of the stairs, casting an inquisitive glance back at the Sheriff who stands a few steps from the bottom of the wrought iron staircase. Emma points to a weatherbeaten door to the left and the older woman walks authoritatively onwards, finding herself in the small, lavender scented bathroom the two younger women share.

A modestly sized claw foot tub centers the room peculiarly; tarnished gold framing protruding up and around it to allow for a pair of lilac tinged curtains to be pulled shut in a waterproof cocoon. The need for this becomes apparant when the Mayor notes there is no separate shower, but instead just a handheld version attached to the bath. A mismatched hook is welded to one of the gold iron bars and she supposes that when settled within this cradle, the shower head is at the perfect height to wash one's hair.

A threadbare white mat lays patiently between the bath and a chipped porcelain toilet, leaving the unfinished wood before the sink and laundry hamper bare. Upon a rust-speckled shelf adorning the far wall rests an artillery of bath products; curiously separated into two sections. The section to the righthand side is primarily pink and purple in hue and is compromised of a great many flowery and fruity concoctions. The smaller number of bottles and tubs to the left are either nihilistic in design or strangely ornate and seem to be predominantly honey and vanilla scented or simply labelled 'odorless'.

Regina needs no clue as to which section relates to which woman.

Feeling ever so slightly foolish, the brunette saunters over to the tub and turns the rusty taps to initiate a shuddery stream of hot water. She tests its temperature with the back of her hand in a way she hasn't done since Henry was an infant and deems it to be hot but not scaldingly so. Turning back to the blonde as she waits for the tub to fill she primps at the invisible creases in her dress pants before fluffing her hair.

Emma stands with her backside rested against the sink and watches as the Mayor goes about fixing her a bath. She hadn't been sure how literally Regina would take her suggestion, and she raises an eyebrow at the way the darker woman tests the water. She watches as the brunette makes her way to the shelf that holds a number of bath products and salts and feels a twitch at the corner of her mouth as the Mayor deliberates over the selection before reaching for a slim bottle of almond scented bubble bath and a bar of vanilla and orange-blossom soap. Both these items are two of the blonde's favorites but she keeps her mouth shut.

Soon the scent that fills the bathroom is sweet and inviting and a small layer of steam wisps above the luxuriously filled bathtub. Regina turns to the Sheriff questioningly and the younger woman offers her a small nod.

Emma pulls her sweater up over her head, along with the skimpy white tank she wears beneath, and the Mayor muses that no matter what state of play their relationship finds itself in; the blonde's muscular stomach and shallowly peaked hipbones are a sight she will find eternally enthralling. She simply gazes at the Sheriff expectantly as the pale woman stands in just her simple cotton bikini briefs and curiously pink bra.

"Shy?"

Emma looks over at her irritably before deftly plucking the remaining fabric from her slender frame, leaving just the shocking white flashes of the plasters at her knees. She raises an eyebrow at the brunette who currently drinks in the finished product and takes a step towards her.

"You aren't joining me?"

Regina spares the modest tub a wary glance and looks back at the blonde with a smirk.

"My dear, I fear you may be overestimating the capacity of the bath somewhat"

The Sheriff shrugs, and again the Mayor is struck by how endearingly boyish the younger woman can be, despite her beautifully lissome frame.

"We can top and tail"

Emma climbs easily into the tub, shivering slightly as the blissfuly hot water turns her pale flesh pink. She lowers herself down into the deep liquid warmth until the lather of bubbles covers her from the chest down.

The Mayor briefly wonders how it can be possible for one to possess such an enticing sternum.

"Plenty of room"

The blonde lifts her leg up out the water pointedly and not for the first time Regina marvels at her flexibility. She can, in no way, entertain the thought of the Sheriff studying dance, but she imagines that if the younger woman were to refine her ways slightly, she would find herself well equipped within the world of gymnastics.

The brunette moves to perch on the edge of the tub, looking down at the Sheriff cooly. Inwardly she deduces that she prefers the blonde's bare-faced look... or, just bare look in general... but she's not about to go and tell Emma this. Instead she plucks a prim, lilac washcloth from its place draped between the taps and dabs its tip repeatedly into the warm water of the bath. She pauses before putting it to use however, deciding that the almond scented body wash is unlikely to possess the abilities she needs for her task. Wandering quickly over to the blonde's bath products once more, she finds an odorless, antiallergenic liquid soap and squirts some onto the damp cloth in her hand. Rubbing it into a thick lather between her thumb and forefinger she returns to her previous position perched on the tub's side.

"This will probably sting a little."

She uses her free hand to scoop back the Sheriff's mane of hair- banishing the peculiar urge to plait the thick, silken gold- and gently rubs at the thin laceration to the blonde's temple with the cloth in her hand. Her ministrations cause the injury to begin bleeding once again and Regina finds herself inwardly smug as she notes the prissy purple cloth in her hand is now stained with a swatch of maroon. She also notes the way Emma's hands grip the sides of the tub in a death-grip and eases up her rubbing until she just dabs softly at the cut.

"Well... at least it's pretty much cleaned up now..."

The Sheriff glances up at the brunette awkwardly, aware that the older woman's reason for staying has now been rendered moot. Her eyes travel the intelligent lines of the Mayor's face and deliberate on the small nick to her upper lip. She has an intense urge to run her tongue across that small imperfection and shakes her head as though to shake it away.

_Beautiful._

Deciding she doesn't really give much of a fuck whether the brunette catches her cold, Emma suddenly pushes herself from the bath and pulls the older woman into a wet embrace; finding her lips and running her tongue over the scar before demanding access.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! I'm _soaked_!"

Regina steps back from the tub with her hands splayed in disbelief, allowing the blonde to take in the sopping wet fabric at her chest. The Sheriff contemplates this curiously; her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip as she takes in the clear shadow of the brunette's bra beneath her white shirt. She raises an eyebrow and smirks impishly

"Well, you're wet now, may as well get in with me."

The Mayor offers her a long-suffering sigh as she plucks at the sodden silk of her shirt. Emma waits expectantly, but the Mayor seems momentarily preoccupied with sulking about her bemusement. The blonde relishes the way this causes the older woman to purse her plump lips, so reminiscent of scarlet rose petals, and her dark eyes to flash angrily. Coming to the realization that Regina has no intention of sharing a quick soak, Emma clambers swiftly from the bath and presses the darker woman against the sink; her naked form soaking the Mayor's clothes instantly as she wraps her arms around the brunette's neck.

"Really, Sheriff..."

Regina mutters, disgruntled, into the blonde's ear, but her hands find the younger woman's damp waist instantly, and she searches out her lips with an aggressive need. Running her tongue over Emma's, the Mayor groans as deft fingers slip traitorously between her legs; playing maddening patterns over silk and lace.

The blonde moves both hands to the Mayor's pleasantly rounded rear and cups the flesh momentarily, before lifting her to sit perched up on the lip of the sink and maneuvering herself to stand between splayed legs. She studies the brunette's delicately crafted features for a moment, before moving her attention to the smooth, delicate skin of the older woman's neck, letting out a small hiss as the latter's fingernails drag roughly across the pale skin of her back.

Regina moves her hand so that her fingers press against the blonde's exposed sex, causing the younger woman's breath to hitch. The position allows her knuckles to rub deliciously against her own covered heat and she gives a little moan of delight as she begins to move her hand at a steady pace, returning her lips to Emma's and leaning into the younger woman's touch as the latter begins to undo the small buttons to her shirt.

Once her task of relinquishing Regina from her blouse is complete, the blonde moves her hands instantly to cup perfect breasts; her thumbs playing teasingly over peaked nipples. She grins as the brunette mewls against her lips before letting out her own gasp of pleasure as Regina slips a slender finger sweetly into her wetness.

Murmuring into the mass of golden curls that fall against her cheek, the Mayor ups the pace of her fingers while her other hand presses softly against the muscles of the blonde's stomach.

"You had me a little worried, Miss Swan, wondering off into the night the way you did, the way you looked... the way you _look_... bad things can happen to a pretty girl, even in this sleepy town..."

"... Did you just admit to being worried about me _and_ call me pretty in the same sentence?"

"Mmm, I hope you appreciated it, Sheriff, because I can promise you such a slip of judgement won't happen again..."

"Just admit it, you like me..."

"... Don't ruin this now... dear..."

She wraps her legs around the Sheriff's waist, speeding up her ministrations until she feels the blonde sag into her; knees buckling in pleasure as she lets out a hoarse moan into the flushed flesh at the brunette's sternum. Regina bucks her hips once, twice, and lets out a similar choked scream as her hands fly to Emma's hair and she pulls the younger woman's lips desperately to hers, their teeth clashing clumsily in the afterglow of pleasure.

As their breathing slows, Regina leaves one last, lingering kiss on the blonde's sex-swollen lips before pushing her away. Emma pulls a towel quickly around herself, shaking out her long hair of which the bottom two inches hangs wet and limp from dragging in the bath water. Looking up, she smirks as the brunette casts her eyes down to survey the water damage sustained to her clothing. With a coy grin, the Sheriff places her hand on her hip and regards the older woman with mischievous eyes.

"Never mind, you'll just have to borrow something."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **_This has probably been the easiest chapter of this fic to write so far, as I've liked trying to keep things a little light hearted for the time being. I have now- finally- come up with an actual storyline for this fic (which was originally supposed to span 3 chapters) and things may get a bit rocky for these two again soon. Thank you to those of you that commented/ PM'd regarding beta-ing, I appreciate it and will message soon. I hope you enjoy, and, as always, comments are greatly appreciated. :)_

* * *

Regina mutters irritably as she allows herself to be led back up to the blonde's bedroom; Emma yanking her along by the hand and exuding an almost nauseating level of uncharacteristic excitement. The Mayor doubts things are about to turn out in her favor.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming, dear, didn't you ever have a doll or something to dress up?"

"Nope"

The brunette purses her lips momentarily, realizing she hasn't spared the younger woman's upbringing any real thought since their relationship has... well... become whatever it is now. She studies the back of the Sheriff's retreating form as the latter bounds up the iron stairs thoughtfully; Emma's light curls bouncing wildly against the fluffy gray towel she clutches to her chest. Before she can conjure up a suitable quip to breeze past what she considers to be an awkward silence, they have reached the Sheriff's bedroom and the blonde turns to face her in a flash of teeth that is all humor and no self-pitying woe, green eyes glimmering at her impishly.

"You're going to be _much_ more fun than a doll!"

"... somehow, I'm having trouble matching your enthusiasm Miss Swan."

Emma grins and wanders over to a narrow built-in wardrobe at the far side of her small bedroom. Regina feels her lip curl disdainfully as she notes that the majority of the closet's contents is simply shoved into a series of cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly inside.

"Were you planning on leaving any time soon, Sheriff?"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?... No, I just never really got around to unpacking is all."

_No, somehow I doubt that_ is _all. You don't like getting too comfortable any place, do you, dear? No matter how hard you've been trying to convince me I can't get rid of you, fight or flight is ingrained, and my guess is you're adept at both, but not_ quite_ so talented at just settling down and relaxing._

Shaking herself from her contemplation- _God, why must I keep psychoanalyzing the damn little home wrecker- _Regina shrugs and perches on the edge of the younger woman's bed, paying no concern to the way her blouse still billows damply open to reveal her incredibly low-cut satin bra.

She watches as the blonde rummages around in the top box and reemerges with a pair of skimpy striped panties. Momentarily dreading the Sheriff imagines she herself should don the somehow childish scrap of fabric, the Mayor opens her mouth to argue, but Emma simply steps into the cotton briefs and pulls them on smoothly. Regina has to bite back a smirk at the way the blonde wiggles them on beneath her towel, as if protecting her modesty, despite their recent activities in the bathroom.

Sussing the object of the Mayor's amusement, Emma raises an eyebrow and disposes of her towel with a quick flick of her wrist; tossing the item to land on her bed. The brunette instinctively reaches for it with a roll of her dark eyes and folds the damp material neatly in half, draping it over the radiator to her side so as to allow the item to dry.

The Sheriff turns her back to the Mayor, moving aside the top box and placing it behind her- allowing Regina to lean surreptitiously forward and glimpse a tantalizing concoction of cotton and lace- and begins hunting around in the one beneath. Eventually she pulls out a light gray sweater; cut short at the arms and waist to be almost fashionable. Pulling it on and shaking out her long hair she finds a pair of woolen socks that pull up easily over her bandaged knees to rest midway up her thighs. Regina blinks, the complete ensemble incredibly, well, _sweet_, but a little odd. She ponders Emma's getup momentarily before she remembers the time and guesses the blonde is simply readying herself for bed.

The Mayor is in no such luck.

"Hmm... do you want pants or a dress?"

"A _dress_?"

The Mayor expresses her doubt within her tone, causing the blonde to cross her arms over her chest as she comes to the conclusion the brunette isn't offering her a hesitant answer but rather questioning the fact she should own such an item.

"Yes, Regina, a dress."

The older woman smirks; Emma's retort so similar to her own mannerisms it's uncanny. She makes an inquisitive gesture with her hand and the Sheriff roots around until she steps forth with her offering. Regina plucks at the light, white cotton of the younger woman's first option curiously, opting not to bother explaining to the Sheriff that such an item as the one she offers is called a 'summer' dress for a reason, but inwardly resolving to find out just what such a feminine dress looks like on the pale woman come April.

The second item Emma holds out is the black dress she had worn the previous evening, and Regina shakes her head instantly. She would sooner make her way home naked than wear that beautiful piece of tailoring; it is Emma's, and Emma's alone.

Curiosity getting the better of her, the Mayor moves from the bed to stand beside the Sheriff as she goes about replacing the dresses on their hangers. She spies a simple denim skirt crumpled carelessly within the box resting on top of the others, along with various jeans, cargo pants and a curious pair of denim shorts.

Very _short_ shorts.

She pulls these from their storage and holds them up with a salacious smirk spreading across her delightfully full lips. Emma rolls her eyes and plucks them deftly from slender fingers, shoving them quickly back within the closet and burying them beneath a pair of old jeans, a light blush creeping across her cheeks.

"I doubt I could even _pay_ you to go home in those."

"Funny, they look like something in which you'd get paid _plenty_... ones and fives add up, dear."

The brunette smirks coyly, but runs a pair of fluttering fingers over the blonde's hip to counteract the bite within her words. Emma huffs and taps the Mayor's hand away irritably, but she continues to hunt through the boxes for something the older woman can wear home. Regina looks on inquisitively, occasionally pulling out an item to study it in more depth before throwing it, disapprovingly, onto the blonde's bed.

"How is it possible for someone to own just one skirt and yet possess twenty-three tank tops?"

"You fucking counted?! Well, skirts are hardly the best thing to be wearing on the job, are they?"

"Oh yes, heaven forbid you actually partake in an activity besides procrastinating at your desk... although, I suppose given that you seem to spend so much of your time with your feet up, a skirt really isn't all too practical. Perhaps those little shorties would be more... appropriate?"

"Oh, shut up,_ Madame Mayor_, as much as it pains you, I get the job done. And besides, I already have Ruby around to fulfill the 'flesh-on-display' quota."

"What's that supposed to mean... you have her around?"

Emma turns to the brunette upon sensing the tetchy change in her tone and raises an eyebrow.

"Nothing, just that Ruby's been coming by to help me with paperwork when she has the time"

"...Is that so?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, I don't see the big deal; you wanted me to hire a deputy, and she's pretty much helping out for free..."

"Sheriff, I don't deem Miss Lucas to really be deputy material"

The blonde shrugs; her attention back on the clothes in front of her, oblivious to the frown crossing the older woman's brow.

"Since when have you and her been so _chummy_ anyway?"

"Hmm?"

"You and Ruby... you just don't seem like you'd have a great deal in common."

Pulling the last of the stacked boxes down to make all possible items accessible and bending to root around in the one just uncovered, Emma looks up at the Mayor curiously before comprehension dawns on her in the form of a knowing grin.

"Well, someone walking in on you half naked can lead to a beautiful friendship, _dear._"

"... I see... and was there any particular_ reason_ for you to be in such a state or is this just something one should know to expect from you, Miss Swan"

"Oh, quit it, she came in to the police station after you locked me in the cell... and anyway... I was wrapped in a blanket, it's not like she saw anything..."

A smirk finds the brunette's lips as things suddenly begin making sense and she places her hand on the crouched Sheriff's shoulder as she joins her in surveying the bombsight within her wardrobe.

"_Ah_, so it was Miss Lucas that sprung our little heroine from her cruel prison?"

"It was, and fortunately for me, Ruby knows how to let things_ go_!"

Regina flicks at the blonde's pale, freckled skin sharply before placing her hands on her hips.

"I have no idea what you are referring to, Sheriff."

Emma rolls her eyes and lowers herself so that she sits with her legs spread childishly on the floor, waving her hand at the boxes hopelessly.

"Just find something, Regina, the pants will probably be a little big for you, but you'll just have to suck it up and deal."

The brunette plucks at the coarse denim distastefully. She can't recall the last time she wore jeans, and she hopes to keep in that way. Similarly, the Sheriff's tops are not at all to her taste; either too big or too small and none of them blessed with the knowledge of what an iron is. Sighing, she gives one last glance towards the scarce items hung up in the blonde's closet and almost turns away before a flash of color catches her eye.

"Pretty?"

She pulls the dress carefully from its hanger, holding it up in front of herself and raising an eyebrow at the blonde.

"Oh, I forgot about that one... yeah, it's ok..."

Her tone and the wrinkle to her nose suggests she thinks otherwise, and the Mayor imagines the fact that the garment she holds is a hot pink to be partially responsible for Emma's disdain.

"I have to say, not really your style, Sheriff?"

"It was for work"

"... You wore this to work?"

"Yes. And before you go making any more hooker comments, I'm referring to bale-bonds work."

"So, basically, you would _dress up_ like a woman of the night but get paid a higher rate for it?"

"Look, Regina, you can go home soggy and topless for all I care..."

The brunette chuckles sordidly as the younger woman grumbles back at her and lays the dress out on the blonde's bed. She smooths out the fabric appreciatively, marveling at how the hue of the soft material is both sultry and yet misleadingly demure. Pulling at the open wings of her blouse, she shucks it lightly from her svelte form and folds it to lie beside the dress. She catches Emma watching her intently and feels a blush creep at her chest; not body-shy in the slightest, but unaccustomed to being observed changing.

Deftly unclasping her dress pants and allowing them to fall lightly to the floor, she steps out of them gracefully and lays them on top of her blouse. She is begrudgingly aware of the fact that she is purposefully sucking in her stomach and clenching her ass cheeks, but supposes that if she is going to be watched as she goes about undressing, she may as well put on a show the younger woman will really enjoy. Primping at her delicately cut satin panties unnecessarily she takes a step towards the blonde, relishing in the way green eyes roam over her velvety exposed flesh.

"Do you have any stockings I can borrow?"

"Uh, probably"

Emma delves into her lingerie box and the Mayor smirks at the way the blonde's eyes flicker up restlessly as though unwilling to forgo the pleasure of drinking in her soft curves. Eventually the Sheriff stands up, holding out a pair of limp nylon stockings. Regina holds up the scant black hosiery doubtfully; the lace embellishing the tops and the visible seam gracing the backs of them making the silky numbers in her hand impossible to imagine within any other scenario but sex.

"I meant more like... never mind."

She hands them back to the blonde, deciding that not only is she doing to make sure she forces Emma into that pretty white summer dress hidden within the depths of her wardrobe, but that she will find out just how sheer those black stocking are when stretched over alabaster flesh.

She pulls the dress on easily over her head, gliding the zipper at her side up expertly, before pulling the soft fabric primly into place. Fussing at her hair, she stalks over to the mirror that hangs adjacent to the blonde's bed and checks herself out. She catches the Sheriff's eyes as she goes, offering her a salacious smile before regarding herself in the mirror.

Emma raises an eyebrow as she takes in the delectable image the Mayor presents. The flushed coral hue of the dress compliments the brunette's skin tone beautifully, setting off her golden complexion. Slender limbs are encased mesmerizingly within heavy silk and the cut of the dress skims perfectly over smooth thighs and full breasts.

_Well, fuck me. I guess that dress isn't so bad after all. _

"D-do... uh, do you need to borrow a jacket?"

The Sheriff cringes as she is forced to clear her throat mid sentence. She tells herself it's the cold, but knows well enough otherwise. Regina turns to her and offers a sultry smirk, sooty eyelashes fluttering prettily.

"So long as it isn't leather, dear."

Emma sighs exasperatedly but pulls a small, cropped jacket from her closet.

"I thought I said no leather?"

But the Mayor pulls on the little black jacket even as these words fall from her lips. She hasn't seen the blonde wear it before, and almost informs the younger woman of her mistake; the soft leather plush to the touch and the cut undeniably flattering. Instead she simply pulls at the collar to straighten it out and waits patiently as the blonde's gaze rests favorably on her.

"So? Do I pull off sarcastic grouchy delinquent as well as you?"

Emma rolls her eyes but takes a step towards the brunette as she continues her observation of the darker woman's tempting form.

"No... but then I've had years of practice."


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: **_This chapter contains an awful lot of reflection on Regina's part. As such I hope I didn't butcher the grammar too badly, or butcher people's view on her character. If I did, I would be interested to know what you felt was off, as I think, judging by comments, most of you reading this are primarily Regina fans, and sometimes I find writing her side/ reasoning a little trickier than Emma's. _

* * *

The brunette sways gracefully up the little path leading to the Sheriff's station; bag in hand containing Emma's dress and jacket neatly laundered and folded. Her excuse for being here is to bring back the items lent to her. She tells herself that in no way is she simply making a social visit.

Her inward battle is rendered moot when, upon reaching the end of the rather dingy corridor leading to the blonde's office, it becomes apparent the younger woman has company. Listening intently from her position hidden just beyond the threshold, she recognizes the second voice murmuring melodically to belong to Mary Margaret.

She rolls her eyes as the general theme of their inane conversation grows clear; the schoolteacher is distraught over the current train-wreck that is the relationship between herself and David Nolan, whilst the blonde offers a kind, yet somewhat disinterested, word every now and then to break up the insipid rambling.

Deciding that Mary Margaret's hopeless romantic whining can wait, Regina stalks smartly into the small office, standing authoritatively in the doorway and returning Emma's surprised frown with her best 'lady of the public' smile.

"Madame Mayor?"

"Sheriff, you may want this."

She holds up the small bag of Emma's clothes, ignoring the inquisitive glance procured from Mary Margaret, and places it neatly by the door.

"Uh, thanks...?"

"Pleasure. Oh, and Sheriff, I have some matters which need to be discussed; if you could come by my office in a short while?"

"Uh, can't do that, sorry, I have plans for lunch... I can come by after?"

"Miss Swan, when you decided you fancied yourself in the position of Sheriff, did you believe you would merely be playing dress-up? Or did you perhaps imagine that a small amount of actual _work_ would be required? Whatever your lunch plans are; cancel them. Twelve o' clock. My office."

With that, the brunette turns swiftly to take her leave. As she starts down the hallway she overhears the indignant cry of disbelief uttered by the normally mild-mannered schoolteacher and scowls darkly.

"That was so _rude_! Why can't that awful woman ever just be civil?!"

Regina waits for the blonde's resentful words of agreement, but the Sheriff merely mutters quietly. The words however, are still discernible by the brunette's sharp ear.

"It's fine, I'll just call Ruby and rearrange, forget it."

_Why does the irksome woman even _need_ to have lunch with that promiscuous little harlot? By the sounds of things they've been seeing more than enough of each other anyway. _

As she gets back into her car, Regina sighs and lets her anger abate. She isn't even entirely sure what spurned it on in the first place. A small voice at the back of her mind suggests her irritability may have something to do with the fact that she'd come breezing into the Sheriff's station in the hopes- _really? hopes?_- of visiting the blonde; an act which, while performed on an almost daily basis, has never been something she has looked forward too before. She hadn't wanted to admit, even to herself, that she had been seeking Emma out for amiable entertainment, so, finding herself standing awkwardly in the doorway when she is usually, hell, is _always_ the one with the upper hand, had just... well...

She sighs, striving to pull herself from her dangerous self-analysis, and perfects her lipstick in the rear-view mirror before cruising slowly back to her office.

_Could that really have been considered rude? I just want the woman to do her damn job._

Letting herself in to her grand office, she picks up an apple from the large bowl that rests on the table and weighs it thoughtfully in her hand. She catches sight of her reflection in one of the expensive mirrors that line the hearth and scowls when she glimpses the unease written across her fine features. She is angry with herself for allowing a simple ten second altercation to affect her in such a way. She is angry with Emma for making her ponder on something which she would have previously not have given a second thought.

"_Why... are you jealous?"_

_Jealous of Ruby. Jealous of Doctor Whale. Jealous of Henry. Jealous of even god damned Mary Margaret whom the blonde allows in with no hesitation._

_So what?! Your interest lies in fucking her not befriending her. _

"Stop it!"

Regina glares at herself in the mirror warningly, refusing to allow herself to wrestle with these idiotic thoughts for another second. She is the Mayor. The irritable young woman, with her leather jackets and bad attitude, is the Sheriff, and as such, is in the position to be expected to do what the Mayor wishes of her.

Professionally, of course.

Smirking at the images conjured in contrast to this last thought, the Mayor takes a seat gracefully at her desk, pulling a small knife from its' top drawer and skinning the peel from her Honeycrisp apple in neat concentric circles. She glances at the ornate clock that rests on the wall above her before returning to her task.

Eleven twenty.

* * *

Emma shoves her hands moodily into the tight pockets of her jeans, traipsing from her small yellow bug- the engine's warning light coming on halfway through her short journey being the cherry on top of this already shitty day- and making her way to the Mayor's office. She knocks hesitantly at the obnoxiously large door and half hopes to be offered no reply.

No such luck.

"Yes?"

Pushing the heavy oak open, Emma lets herself in, waiting awkwardly in the doorway as she holds the brunette's bright gaze.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Did you get your things okay, Miss Swan?"

"Yes... they're in my car... what do you want?"

"Come, sit down, dear."

She does as she's told, walking stiffly over to the grand desk and taking a seat opposite the Mayor. She looks around for a hint as to what this is going to be about, but is surprised to find that no documentation or papers lie atop the older woman's desk. Raising an eyebrow in question, she regards Regina warily.

"I'm sorry I am forcing you to skip your lunch, Sheriff..."

"No you're not."

Emma leans back in the chair, arms folded across her chest. To her surprise, the brunette lets out a low chuckle, nodding her head as though she finds Emma's retort to be not just amusing but very much true. A silence falls between them in the wake of this small show of mirth and they sit, facing each other- the blonde with a confused glower and the brunette with a small smirk at her pleasant lips- with tension quickly rising.

"So? Why am I here? Or did you just not want me going the day without my dose of sardonic goading?"

Regina's smirk widens into an oddly charming smile, but she remains- for the moment- silent. Steeping her fingers beneath her chin, she regards the increasingly frustrated Sheriff thoughtfully until she gages the latter is a mere moment away from snapping.

"Miss Swan, I am a woman who likes the finer things in life."

"No shit."

The Mayor continues as though the Sheriff's comment has gone unheard, gesturing at the grandeur of the room in which they currently sit with a gracefull sweep of her arm.

"I like to be surrounded by expensive things. Nice things... Pretty things... I find it gives me great pleasure. Do you know what I _don't_ like though? What I truly detest?"

_Me?_

Emma keeps her mouth shut; interested to see where this obscure little monologue is going as she deduces the Mayor's question to be rhetorical.

"What I _don't_ like, Miss Swan, is sharing those... pretty things... with others. Do you understand me so far?"

"Uh, I guess?"

"Because, you see, when one finds themselves in the possession of something really, truly... pretty... the thoughts of anyone else playing with it, with their dirty, sticky fingers... well.. it just doesn't do, dear."

Regina raises an eyebrow at the blonde, conveying she wishes to know whether her message has been received. Emma seems, for the moment, at a loss for words, which the Mayor takes advantage of as she rises slowly from her chair and stalks dominantly round the large table to stand beside where she sits. Playing her hands sensually through the blonde's thick curls, the older woman leans forward and places a hard kiss on slightly confused-parted lips, before stepping her leg agily over the Sheriff's legs and straddling her lap posessively.

Emma struggles to comprehend exactly what seems to be happening- to take in the Mayor's curious words- as the brunette brushes her lips passionately against her own.

"F-find yourself in po-possession of something?"

She frowns as Regina begins undoing the buttons to the denim shirt she wears; head reeling with the delectable scent of the Mayor's perfume, juxtaposed with the words uttered from scarlet lips suggesting the darker woman feels some sort of ownership.

"Regina, you know you can't... you don't posses me... don't own me..."

The brunette pulls roughly at long silken curls, eliciting a groan from the younger woman beneath her, biting playfully at the smooth pale expanse of her neck,

"Don't I?"

"...No..."

The Mayor grins into flushed skin as the blonde's words say no, but her rapid breathing suggests otherwise, and she pulls the Sheriff's mouth greedily back to hers as she smooths unruly curls into submission.

"I don't need to own something to despise witnessing others playing with her..."

"Are you...Are you jealous?"

None of the cocky sarcasm this time, just clouded confusion in blown green eyes as the Sheriff pulls back to search the brunette's face with something close to bewilderment. Regina regards the younger woman's flushed cheeks, parted lips and rapid breathing with a smirk.

"...What if I am?"

Emma frowns slightly, her expression strangely child-like in her confusion and Regina represses the urge to chuckle.

"Well... I... I don't really know how-"

"Shh..."

Warm lips against hers again and the blonde struggles to concentrate. Somewhere at the back of her mind, her logic argues that she should stop this, think about this, that this is just as likely to be a form of manipulation as it is the truth. She reprimands that pensive part with the fact that it doesn't really matter. That at the end of the day, there's no real way this won't end up with her getting screwed.

Figuratively.

Literally.

"Regina, I-"

"-Go get your dress out of the car and come back here. Now."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: **_Two chapters in one day; don't say I never did anything for you ;) And can we all just graciously overlook the fact that I clearly have nothing better to do with my Friday nights than to drink too much whisky and work on some well-meaning smut. Enjoy!_

* * *

The disorientation caused by the Mayor's words has the blonde complying with her demand as if on autopilot. It is only when she stands beside her car, pink dress in hand, that she stops a moment and allows herself to think.

She is pissed at the brunette's phrasing; that the older woman should think she owns her in anyway. She also knows Regina well enough by now to suspect such a term is meant more to suit the Mayor's own psychology than to be expressed as a fact. She ponders briefly whether the darker woman's intent and interests should be conceived as flattering or offensively dominant and comes up with nothing save for the beginnings of a pounding headache.

Leaning her forehead against the side of the car in a way that she supposes must look quite comical, she relishes the feeling of the cool metal beneath her skin and tries to calm down. To chill out. A part of her wants to get in the car and drive off. To drive pointedly to the diner and find Ruby and have a long, indulgent lunch with the young brunette. If she's lucky, Regina may even come out to find her and play witness.

_It's a sad day when your best idea of 'comeback' is to go out and eat lunch..._

True. But she imagines that the Mayor would view the act as exquisitely offensive.

Despite this fleeting notion, she fumbles her keys back into her pocket. Had this been a week ago, and their sordid game still at its height, she would probably be in her car right now, ordering an extra large milkshake over the phone. This is now though, and she can't bear the thought of starting that particular game of cat and mouse again. Cat and cat.

"Miaow."

_Oh great, talking to yourself. As a cat. This relationship is really putting you in a great place, Swan. _

She sighs and pulls her head from the cool surface of the car. She regards the dress she holds in her hand with an air of disgust and wonders why in the hell she's playing along with the Mayor's wishes. The woman is clearly a sociopath.

It would be no fun if she wasn't.

_Oh god, what crazed breed of masochism is this?_

Her fists clench angrily, but her mind reels with the image of herself and Henry halfway up that treacherous tree; giddy, laughing. She thinks of the way the brunette had shown up unannounced, sure, full of spiteful comments, but underneath that, simply to make sure she was ok.

She thinks of Ruby carefully applying pretty... pretty... makeup and of standing to view herself in the mirror thinking that this time, _this_ time she would win one.

She thinks back on the Mayor- in not so many words- calling her a whore.

_Her_ whore.

Glaring up at the grand building before her she sighs in distaste before turning her scowl down to the dress in her hand.

"Fuck it."

She marches back up the stone steps to the Mayor's office. After all; with lunch skipped, she may as well demand her dessert.

* * *

Regina studies the younger woman curiously. Emma's jaw is set and her expression, while hard to read, is definitely not one of ease.

"Come here, dear."

She beckons with a manicured finger, slowly pulling something from her desk drawer which she keeps hidden beneath the ledge of the table.

She had suffered a moment of doubt when the Sheriff had failed to return after the first few minutes; worried the younger woman had tired of their shared emotional roller-coaster. She would have been hard put to be surprised should that have been the case. Emma is stubborn, but she can also be cold. Not in the same way as the Mayor herself; not in a spiteful, malicious way. No, she can be cold in a way where she shuts down, tunes out.

_Constructs a ten foot wall around herself and is responsive only in ice-ridden monosyllables._

Surveying the Sheriff now, she imagines it was a close call, but Emma pauses only a moment before trudging slowly over.

Regina imagines the younger woman trudges in such a way simply to irk her.

_Play nice, now, dear._

Emma raises an eyebrow in question when she stands before the Mayor, taking a wary step back when the brunette raises her hands and she spies they are no longer empty.

"Hold still."

The blonde opens her mouth to object, but curiosity gets the better of her and she remains where she is, studying the older woman intensely until the soft silk of the scarf the brunette holds is placed gently over her eyes.

"Can you see?"

"...No."

Regina makes a small noise of approval and moves behind the blonde to tie the scarf securely in place, careful not to insnare her messy curls.

"There will be no pain, Miss Swan, and no danger to yourself."

Emma's breath hitches audibly and the Mayor ponders with cruel amusement that the peculiar tastes of the blonde may find the lack of teeth and a little heavy handedness to be a negative thing. Regina smirks. This is none of her concern. It serves her current intent no purpose.

Taking the dress from the Sheriff's obedient fingers, she places it carefully upon the desk to her side. She lets her eyes wander over the younger woman's attire with a small curl at her lip, noting the way the buttons of her shirt still remain half undone to expose the predictable flash of a white tank top beneath. She wonders if the Sheriff suffers from some peculiar strain of OCD when it comes to double-layering. Smirking, she finishes what she'd started, unbuttoning the shirt to hang loosely about the blonde's slender frame as she bites back a chuckle due to the way Emma jumps at her touch.

"Only me, dear."

"And that's supposed to help me relax?"

Regina laughs, brushing her lips against the blonde's and pulling away quickly when pretty pink lips part obediently.

"Bitch."

The Mayor pouts and lands a hard slap across the Sheriff's backside, earning her a surprised little mewl before Emma breaks into a grin.

"I thought you said no pain?"

"Shut up, you love it."

Regina's eyes darken as the blonde let's out a low, affirmative laugh. Stalking around the younger woman slowly, she ponders briefly where to start.

_Top or Bottom._

Deciding to mix it up, she lunges suddenly forwards and rips the opened shirt quickly from the Sheriff's unsuspecting body, disposing of it carelessly on the floor. The room is not cold in the slightest, but the blonde's arms break out in goosebumps, causing the Mayor to lick her lips eagerly.

Moving stealthily once more, she moves her hands to the younger woman's waist- delighting in the way the Sheriff instinctually sucks in her stomach- and loosens the blonde's belt with a few hearty tugs. She runs her finger swiftly down the zipper seam of Emma's jeans, earning herself another sharp gasp, before guiding her finger back up along this path slowly and firmly to rest at the small button that sits patiently at the top. Fiddling this open, she pulls the zipper down slowly before leaning forwards and blowing gently across the smooth skin at the blonde's collarbone.

Tilting her head to come level with the Sheriff's lips, the brunette disregards her earlier promise and moves slowly forward to catch the younger woman's bottom lip between her teeth. With her fingers hooked within the loops of Emma's jeans, she bites down- softly at first, and then with a little more pressure- and parts the blonde's jeans to expose a familiar V of lacy material. Pulling towards her with her fingers, she uses her strength to grind the exposed fabric against herself as she tastes the telling metallic tang of the Sheriff's blood between her lips.

Stepping back and admiring her handy-work she suddenly understands everything that has happened since the day of the storm. How this all came to be.

Because _this_ is what was on offer.

Emma licks at her lip experimentally, pink tongue flashing against scarlet beneath the purple silk of the scarf.

The Mayor holds back for a second, simply watching and waiting, wanting to catch the blonde once more by surprise. When she tires of simply observing the Sheriff quiver with anticipation, she lunges forwards again and finishes the job; ripping the younger woman's jeans roughly down her legs. She quickly unties her boots and commands the Sheriff take them off. Emma does as she's told, stumbling a little as her jeans pool about her knees and her balance is compromised by the scarf. Regina offers no guidance or support, but allows herself a small, appreciative smile when the blonde manages her task with no help. Taking the younger woman's hand in her own and guiding it to rest at her shoulder, she bends down and uses her free hand to rest against Emma's hip, holding her steady.

"Lift your right leg."

The Mayor tugs the jeans quickly free before demanding the Sheriff do the same with her left.

"Good girl."

Still crouched down low, the brunette leans stealthily forward and blows softly over the thin material covering the blonde's sex. The twitch she observes at the Sheriff's thighs lets her know it was felt.

Toying with the hem of Emma's tank top, the older woman smirks when the blonde automatically begins to raise her arms. With brutal speed, she rips the dampening lace before her violently down and replaces the ruined fabric quickly with her palm, grinding hard against the younger woman's heat.

"_Shit_!"

Emma's exclamation comes half as a yelp and half as a groan and the Mayor stands swiftly to capture its ending with scarlet lips.

The blonde's hands find her waist blindly and caress her sides through her shirt before sneaking playfully forward to cop a feel of her breasts. Regina moves back quickly, biting back a small laugh as the Sheriff's lips form a kittenish grin.

"Behave yourself!"

Emma sticks her tongue out childishly, yelping when the brunette lunges forward with liquid speed to nip at its tip. Pulling the blonde to her once more, Regina holds her flush as she slowly peels up the flimsy fabric of the Sheriff's top, pinging her bra-straps smartly as she moves over them.

"Hey!"

Grinning, the older woman disposes of the thin little vest and moves her hands easily to the clasps at the Sheriff's back that hold her final garment in place. Unhooking the teeth of Emma's pale green bra, Regina lets it fall to the floor with a flourish and steps back to take in the full picture the younger woman portrays.

The purple of the scarf covering her eyes compliments the Sheriff's pale skin nicely, and the Mayor admires the way it causes her hair to tumble wildly underneath, as if trying to escape. Pressing her lips softly against the slightly bloody mouth of the blonde, Regina lets her hands roam teasingly over bare flesh, pulling her fingers completely clear of pale limbs before coming back for a surprise attack, always changing her angle.

"Regina..."

The Sheriff's voice is lower now, hoarse, and from the flush to her skin and the occasional flutter of her stomach muscles, the brunette suspects she may be well and truly aroused by this current little game. Dipping a finger between silken folds just to make sure, she chuckles at the younger woman's obvious wetness and raises her hand to Emma's mouth, running her finger pointedly across bruised lips before the blonde takes the hint and licks it clean.

"Very good."

Taking the dress from the table, Regina unzips it carefully before tickling her finger playfully across bare ribs, causing the blonde's arms to lift slightly on reflex.

"All the way up."

Emma does as she's told, blindly feeling the soft material of the dress and leaning forward slightly to help the brunette get it up over her head. Once accomplished, she lowers her arms tentatively, not quite resting them to her sides as the Mayor pulls the tight fabric into place.

Brushing aside the blonde's long hair and laying it to rest across her shoulder, Regina nibbles at the pale, exposed skin of her neck before pulling up the zipper slowly. Giving the dress one more brush down and once over, the brunette walks round to face the blonde and takes her hands firmly. Pulling her gently until Emma clues up and allows herself to be led carefully across the room, Regina comes to a pointed halt and turns the blonde slowly with a guiding hand to her waist and shoulder.

Regina observes the two of them in the room's large, floor length mirror curiously as she stands behind the blindfolded Sheriff, one hand still clasped to the younger woman's waist while the other plays with a strand of golden hair. She studies Emma's reflected image, the way the coral pink hue of the dress offsets her pale skin prettily, the way her bruised lips remain slightly parted in curiosity as she awaits whatever the Mayor has in store. Gently pulling the silk scarf free from the blonde's eyes, Regina waits while the Sheriff blinks to adjust to the sudden brightness before taking in her reflection in the mirror.

Emma raises an eyebrow, reflected eyes flickering to Regina curiously, and the brunette offers her a slow smile. Moving so that she stands almost completely hidden behind the blonde, Regina wraps her hand more firmly around the Sheriff's waist, caressing the taut muscle of her stomach through sinful pink and moving her lips to press against the younger woman's neck, murmuring into her hair.

"I am a woman who likes the finer things in life, Miss Swan."

With that, the hand at the Sheriff's waist begins inching downwards.

"I like to surround myself with nice things. Pretty things."

Slender fingers skim playfully over the silk that hides the blonde's heat.

"It gives me... great pleasure..."

Using her spare hand, she quickly shucks up the younger woman's dress so that the other can disappear beneath the soft fabric.

"But what I don't like, Miss Swan, is sharing those pretty... pretty things..."

Emma's eyes widen as she continues to watch herself in the mirror, Regina's fingers slipping sweetly over her heat as a hand sneaks up to cup her breast and hot lips press maddeningly at her neck.

"Because, you see, when one finds themselves in the possession of something really, truly... pretty... the thought of anyone else playing with it, with their... dirty... sticky... fingers..."

The Sheriff clamps her eyes shut as the Mayor increases the ministrations being delivered below the cover of her dress, biting down on her lip until she garners flesh blood.

"You are mine to play with, Sheriff, whether you like it or not... I am not a woman who will share, so tell me... who else will you let play with you, the way I do?"

Emma lets out a small cry as teeth bare down hard at her shoulder, willing herself to ignore the brunette, to refuse Regina the pleasure of giving her what she wants. The only problem with that, is that she too, will be denied what she wants.

_So, what's the big deal? It's not like there's anyone else in this shitty town you're actually looking to fuck. To play around with. Just tell her what she wants to hear. Tell her you're not about to go off and fuck the next person you talk to. That you have lunch with. _

It should be easy, but the blonde is hard. She despises exposing her belly, her throat, on instinct, and the very fact the Mayor requests her submission, her vulnerability, is reason enough to fight her.

She tells herself this as she moves her hips to get the brunette's fingers to enter her at a better angle.

Regina grins as she watches the blonde's inward battle play across her face in her mirrored image.

"Open your eyes."

Emma shakes her head, so close now that her inner muscles are beginning to flutter tellingly.

"Listen to me. Open your eyes!"

Green eyes fly open as the Sheriff falls forward with a cry, legs shaking, and the brunette catches her easily, pulling her limp frame instantly close.

"...No one."

"What was that?"

Regina smirks as she feels the younger woman's heart continue to beat frantically beneath her palm and regards Emma's reflection carefully; the blonde's eyes once more closed as she murmurs quietly into chestnut locks.

"No one. Just you."

Turning the Sheriff to face her, away from the mirror, the brunette kisses her deeply, hands losing themselves in thick, silken gold.

"Thank you."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: **_Updates may be a little slower from now on due to being back at uni. Apologies, and I hope you enjoy the parts I manage to get up as soon as possible._

* * *

"Sheriff Swan..."

The old pawnbroker blinks in momentary surprise, before a cruel smile touches his lips. The blonde regards him cooly, more than aware of what has caught the peculiar little man's attention. She raises an eyebrow as his dark coals continue to roam about her face and attire; taking in the messy bun from which curls escape chaotically- a moderately sized section of hair to her left seemingly forgotten entirely- framing her bare face and drawing attention to the thick rimmed glasses that rest comfortably at her sharp nose. Her hands are hidden within the fleece-lined pocket that adorns the front of the oversized navy hoodie she wears, and her legs are for the most part bare beneath what he eventually assesses to be boxer shorts, much to his amusement.

"Mr Gold?... A little early to be making house calls, isn't it?"

"Well, I had figured that ten o' clock was a suitable time pop by on a week day... alas I seem to have been mistaken. My deepest apologies that I have caught you _quite_ so unprepared to be receiving company."

The Sheriff rolls her eyes at his silky, patronizing tone and steps aside in a silent bid that he should come in. She pads lightly to the coffee machine in the kitchen, turning to face Gold with her eyebrow raised questioningly, before collecting two mugs from the drying rack after he offers her a curt nod.

"I suppose such luxuries are the benefit of, ah, 'working' from home?"

"Not that I can see how it's any of your business, but a pipe burst in the Station yesterday afternoon; the floor's flooded. I have my mobile set up to take all redirected calls, and I was keeping myself perfectly damn busy before _you_ showed up."

She gestures over to the large dining room table where a stack of crumpled paper litters the desk. Gold smirks at her defensive tone and finds himself hungering to goad the blonde just a little more as she pokes her head into the fridge in search for milk.

"_So_ busy, you haven't even had time to _shower_ it would appear?"

She glares at him irritably- green eyes flashing behind glass- and sets his mug down upon the kitchen island with unneccesary force, causing the scalding liquid within to slop messily over the rim.

"Damn it!"

She continues to scowl, as though accusing her guest of the dark spillage staining the pitted wooden surface, before fetching some kitchen towel and mopping up the mess.

"Thank you, Sheriff."

The pawnbroker glances curiously down at the blonde's pale leg, just visible from behind the counter- its twin hidden completely- as he notes the ugly grazes spattering the flesh at the Sheriff's knee.

"Took a fall, did you, Miss Swan?"

He points to the injury with a long-nailed finger as confusion flickers across her features and she glances down, distracted, before shrugging dismisively.

"Henry and I were out in the woods. I scraped my knees."

Gold offers her a simple nod, negating to question her on the thin, red line created by the fast-healing laceration at her temple.

The blonde suffers from many personality defects, but her merciless strive towards keeping her own business private is one with which he feels he can relate.

_And it would just be cruel to shatter her delusion that she hides things well..._

"Pity."

"I'll live. What do you want?"

"Well it's a little belated, but I've managed to locate those documents you wanted. I'm simply dropping them by."

He holds out a slim folder he had previously clutched unobtrusively to his side which she takes without so much as a second glance, walking over to the piles of paper strewn chaotically over her make-shift desk and placing it carelessly on top.

"I'll look over them when I have a moment."

"No rush, Sheriff...I _do_ hope it's everything you need."

He drains the last of the potent liquid from his cup, the blonde's eyes widening in surprise at the way her slippery companion swallows the scorching liquid as though unaffected. Placing the mug promptly back upon the kitchen island with a dull thunk, he offers Emma a thin-lipped smile and a nod of his head.

"I'll leave you to your work then, Miss Swan, and, if you'll accept some well-meaning advice, I'd keep an eye on those grazes to your knee; perhaps keep them plastered a little longer. Additionally, I'd recommend a little Arnica for that bruise at your throat..."

"My throat...?"

"Another injury from your fall in the woods... I'm sure."

Gold suppresses a grin as the blonde opens her mouth in surprise, a light blush finding her cheeks as he feigns ignorance.

_Interesting. Now who could it be that our delightful little ice queen has allowed in to thaw her heart?... Or, at least, suck at her neck... Really dearie... Perhaps next time don't allow them to brand you quite so obviously if you remain determined to delude yourself with whatever air of mystery you fathom you possess._

Predictably, the Sheriff counteracts her surprise with stone-cold defense and tosses the unruly escaped curls tumbling about her delicate features irritably, crossing her arms over her ridiculously large sweater and regarding him with ill-hidden contempt.

"Yeah... I guess. I'll be sure to do that."

Smiling pleasantly, Gold takes his leave, dark eyes twinkling as the Sheriff shows him gladly to the door.

"Take care of yourself, Miss Swan."

"... I'm sure I'll see you soon."

* * *

"For fucks sake."

The blonde grumbles irritably as she pushes herself up from the sofa on which she had been strewn- skimming through a mind-numbing complaint sent in by Miss Ginger- and makes her way to the door. She briefly entertains the idea of requesting whomever waits on the other side to bear with her for a moment in an attempt to tidy herself up a little, but promptly disregards the notion.

_I will wear my pajamas around my own fucking house if I damn well like._

"Yes?"

Emma pulls the door open aggressively, causing the flawlessly primped brunette to take an involuntary step back before her dark eyes take in the image portrayed by the Sheriff and her plump lips form an amused sneer.

"Miss Swan... I hope you didn't go to all this effort just for me..."

Regina chuckles as the blonde lets out an audible sigh, slipping easily past Emma who has already moved aside to allow the Mayor into the cosy apartment.

"What can I say; I try... I appear to be unusually popular this morning... if I'd known I was going to be in such high demand I would have worn Calvin Klein's."

She fingers the fraying hem of her gray boxers thoughtfully and Regina offers her a superior sigh before helping herself to a seat at the large dining room table.

"I never knew you were in such demand, dear?"

Emma scowls at the cruel smirk lingering at the brunette's tantalizing lips, but the Mayor catches the mischievous glint playing behind curious glass easily.

_Hideous... But strangely endearing... Hilariously dorky... Cute._

_Cute?!_

She pushes away such thoughts with abrupt force as Emma perches childishly up on the counter, regarding the younger woman curiously.

"Everyone wants a piece! Can you blame them?"

Dark eyes flash with warning, but when the blonde pouts her lips in an exaggerated display of provocativeness they flicker with lazily hidden amusement.

"Given your current... outfit?... I somehow doubt that."

"Oh,_ really_?"

The Sheriff raises an eyebrow as her muscular legs part ever so slightly atop the high surface of the kitchen counter. Her position allows her to look down on the brunette; green eyes glittering over the top of her glasses in a way that is inexplicably sexy. Regina sniffs, brushing a speck of lint from her tantalizingly tight pencil skirt and offering the blonde a bored shrug as though entirely disinterested by the whole situation.

The events of the previous afternoon play across the minds of both young women; both knowing that neither is innocent of indifference towards the other anymore, but each still clinging onto the familiar pretense.

"So what was it _you_ wanted to see me for, Madame Mayor?

The title drips languidly from rose-pink lips, sweet and seductive like syrup. The brunette allows a small twitch to the corner of her mouth, studying the Sheriff levelly as the younger woman grins down at her impishly.

"...You even have to ask, _Emma_?"

The Mayor smirks as the blonde blinks in childlike surprise at the use of her given name, coupled with the blatant innuendo overshadowing the question.

"Well, I... I was working, but, I mean... we could..."

Regina rolls her eyes as the Sheriff stumbles gracelessly through her response. She is torn between the enjoyment of goading and griping about the way the younger woman conducts herself-Emma's sometimes teenage manner when faced with the her lazy ridicule providing easy bait for further games- and the realization that, despite her snarky remarks to the contrary, her eyes continue to roam with appreciative intrigue over the blonde's bedraggled appearance.

"We could _what_, Sheriff?"

The brunette rises from her seat gracefully and makes her way over to where the Sheriff perches with a slow, seductive sway of her hips. Reaching the kitchen island, she places her hands on the exposed flesh of the blonde's thighs and leans forward, her weight supported easily by pleasantly toned muscle. She hovers with her lips a mere inch from Emma's, her crisp tailored jacket and mercilessly fitted skirt a stark contrast to the blonde's bed ready attire.

"What could we do?"

The Sheriff closes the gap forcefully, slender fingers slipping easily into chestnut silk as her thumbs cup the smooth skin at the Mayor's temples and her lips crash hotly against the brunette's. Regina smiles into the act, hands sweeping up the blonde's thighs until they rest at skinny hips.

"I'm open to suggestions..."

Emma grins mischieviously as she leans back to regard the brunette. Regina licks her bottom lip before catching the scarlet petal with flawlessly white teeth as she returns the blonde's gaze. Leaning slowly forward once more, she presses her mouth close to the Sheriff's ear and whispers seductively.

"Is that so, dear?... Then I suggest... you strip off those shapeless little shorts and that ridiculous sweater... strip down to your underwear... are you even wearing any?-"

Slim fingers creep beneath the elastic of the blonde's boxers teasingly.

"- It would appear not... naughty girl... strip down to _nothing_, then... and then..."

Emma nods impatiently, inwardly beseeching the brunette to continue as she plays her own hands distractedly through silken hair.

"And then... and then I suggest you get yourself into the damn shower, and make yourself decent for the day like the rest of us!"

"Oh, shut up."

Emma hisses irritably as she pulls away with a scowl. Regina shrugs with an arrogant flip of her hair, but she pats at the blonde's left thigh in a strangely amiable way.

The Sheriff jumps easily from her seat atop the kitchen island while grumbling sourly at the brunette, rolling her eyes for good measure.

"Whatever you say, Your _Majesty_!"

She offers a sarcastically low bow; completely oblivious to the sharp intake of breath her comment illicits from the brunette. Pulling herself back up to regard the slightly taken-aback Mayor, she offers a burlesque sigh before making her way quickly over the the bathroom and closing the door.

Regina shakes her head in bemusement, reclaiming her seat at the table. She is a woman completely at home in her own skin, and as such finds no real discomfort at being left to her own devices within the living space of another. She throws casual glances about her, inwardly labeling the various crumbling and unfinished aspects to the interior with distaste.

Dark eyes flicker briefly over the chaotic mess of paperwork to her right and she pauses for a moment as she regards a slim, black file perched atop the countless sheets of paper. She recognizes the file instantly- or rather, she recognizes its owner- having received a fair few over the years herself. Curiosity mounting, she spares a brief glance towards the closed bathroom door before plucking it deftly from the desk and peering at the documents within.

"What...?!"

She drops the folder back onto the table; eyes darkening with murderous thunder as her golden complexion takes on a new, chalk-like pallor. Lips thinning bloodlessly, she remains where she is, her position rigid, listening to the careless drone of the shower as her stomach twists into a hateful knot and her mind threatens to simply break.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N:**_ Hopefully this chapter reads ok. I had originally planned this chapter and the last to be structured a little differently, but changed the sequence of events a little due to the amount of angry comments I've seen on tumblr and twitter after Sunday's episode. As such, I didn't want to leave Emma's intentions as a cliffhanger/ unexplained in fear of angry character hate haha. Thanks for reading, and as always, enjoy!_

* * *

Emma pulls a face at herself in the small bathroom mirror as she brushes her teeth, deftly holding back her long hair as she spits white froth into the sink. Rinsing her mouth out with water, she removes her glasses and shuts them away within the mirrored cabinet, replacing them with her contacts. Pulling a brush through her wild curls with an occasional wince, she shakes out her once more silky tresses and slings her towel back onto the hook by the door.

The lack of angry voices behind peeling wood allow her to deduce that her housemate has not made her way home for any unknown reason to stumble upon her present guest, and as such, she slips out into the living room in a pale flash of exposed flesh, a small smile touching her pink lips as she pointedly ignores the Mayor and makes her way quickly upstairs, thus missing the stoic thunder playing across the older woman's face.

* * *

"Oh, are you still here?"

The blonde inquires teasingly, head cocked to the side as she waits for the Mayor to pay her some attention.

Regina looks up slowly, her features expressionless as the muscles of her face seem suddenly numb. She takes in the Sheriff's appearance absently, her mind struggling to process the damning hatefulness glimpsed without the younger woman's knowledge.

Emma waits patiently, her grin faltering slightly as the brunette studies her with clinical indifference. She wonders in confusion if this is a part of some little game, and decides to wait for further explanation. She wears a very simple, dark green shirt, buttoned demurely high, its hem tucked into the washed out denim of the sinfully small shorts the Mayor had spied, much to her delight, when they had rummaged through her wardrobe. As the stoic silence continues, the blonde becomes increasingly unsettled, glancing down at her bare legs critically, trying to figure out what she's done wrong.

Regina studies the Sheriff coldly, dark eyes becoming all but black with lust as she drinks in yet another version of the chameleon blonde, but absent from any of the cautious warmth and affection that the younger woman has glimpsed recently. Her head hurts, and she is unsure whether the pain is caused by Emma's betrayal- not to mention anger at herself for allowing the insufferable little imp to blind her the way she has- or the simple need to launch herself at the younger woman.

To fuck her.

To kill her.

"... Regina? Is something wrong?"

_Clueless. Despicably unaware. Green eyes shining with innocence; a whore's trick, you hateful little bitch. Do you honestly think you're going to get away with this? _

Expression softening with professional skill, the brunette clears her throat and forces a seductive smirk to grace her lips.

"No, dear, I was just lost in my thoughts, there's nothing wrong at all."

A playful grin alights the Sheriff's face once more; white teeth flashing maddeningly as she makes her way slowly over to stand before the Mayor. Manicured hands quickly find the smooth flesh of pale thighs, tracing intricate patterns as the brunette pulls the blonde down to straddle her lap.

_In our world, they would call you a Siren. Deceitful. Conniving. Bitch._

Scarlet lips brush against pink, devouring slowly, deeply, as hands explore.

"We should... We should lock the door... In case Henry comes by on his lunch break..."

Emma's voice is a breathless murmur into dark tresses and the Mayor digs her nails brutally into soft flesh, biting down on the pale skin at the blonde's throat; none of the usual sensual pressure, but simply sharp teeth closing with violent fury.

"_Ah! Fuck!_"

White hands scramble fitfully over the luxurious silk of the brunette's jacket, struggling to find purchase before pushing their owner's aggressor shakily away.

"Not so...Not so hard!"

Regina studies the blonde intently as green eyes water and the younger woman fingers the abused flesh at her throat tentatively, her expression momentarily fearful as she returns the Mayor's gaze.

"Yes. You're right. That's a good idea, Miss Swan."

The Sheriff pushes herself off the brunette's lap clumsily, battling to keep her composure as pain-induced tears threaten to spill out onto her cheeks. She surrupitiously glances down at her fingers to check for blood, but they remain thankfully untainted. Hurrying over to the door to engage the lock, she turns with a sharp gasp as the brunette slams her roughly against the gnarled wood.

"Hey!"

Lust battles with unsettled caution and lucks out as Emma wraps her arms around the Mayor's waist and pulls her flush, searching out scarlet smudged lips and laughing throatily as Regina growls against her mouth.

"I should wear shorts more often..."

_I'm sure you will, dear, because once I'm done with you, you can kiss your job, your life, this town goodbye. You deserve nothing. You will _have_ nothing. I will ruin you, the way you are trying to ruin me. I will destroy you, if it is the last thing I do._

"I wouldn't object."

Again that low laugh, the Sheriff oblivious to brunette's wrath. Regina swallows the sound swiftly, closing her eyes as slim fingers work deftly at the clasp of her dress pants before dipping slyly beneath the soft lace that covers her sex. She rests her own hands at the blonde's slender throat, delighting in the way the younger woman stiffens a little as her fingers press down softly over delicate skin. She can feel Emma's pulse, vital beneath her warm fingers, and smirks as the blonde gives in to trust and simply continues her blissful ministrations as she increases the pressure ever so slightly.

_I should finish this now I have the chance. The way whomever painted that damning scar across your stomach should have finished it. The way any of the men you stupidly allowed to follow you home should have finished it. You spend the last ten years fucking around, indulging in whatever sins your crude mind craved, never having to deal with the pressure of who you really were. The Savior. _

_A mother._

_You have tiptoed the line to ruin me for too long now, and I'll admit you must harbor your own form of magic as you kept me from seeing it these past few weeks. _

_Cleverer than you let on. _

_We will never know if Good prevails. There_ is_ no 'good'. You are nothing but a malicious whore. _

_No better than than I. _

_You threw your child away the same way you would a ripped condom, and think you can come back into his life? You think you can build up a case against me? _

_Those papers. Those documents. Were you planning on filling them out after you pushed for just a little more fun._

_Perhaps we should have fucked on top of them. _

_What do you think?_

_It matters not. _

_I know now. _

_You were good but I'm better._

_You should have left this town when I warned you._

_Yes. It would have been wise. Because you see... I think. I think there may only be one solution to this little impasse at which we find ourselves, dear. _

_The curse would break..._

_I will find a way. I always do._

_You should have stayed in fucking Boston._

Regina tightens her grip as she climaxes violently, breathing heavily as she pulls herself back under control. Emma makes a choked sound in her ear, hands finding slim wrists and pulling the brunette's dangerous fingers away from her throat. She offers the Mayor a nervous grin which doesn't quite serve to hide the panic that dances in her eyes.

She looks curiously young. Fragile.

"Sorry, dear."

The brunette observes the red marks left by her fingers with mild curiosity, dark eyes flickering briefly to the purple mark left by her teeth. She touches the pained skin there gently, observing the way the blonde shudders slightly.

Clasping up her moderatly crumpled dress-pants, the Mayor straightens her shirt and neatens her hair. She returns the warm smile the Sheriff offers her, as she takes a seat at the dining room table once more, with surprising ease and believable sincerity.

_Why did you have to go and do this... Why!?_

"I best be on my way actually, Sheriff, not all of us have the luxury of untrustworthy plumbing to excuse us from work."

"I _am _working!"

"Yes... I imagine you are..."

She sighs, dark eyes flickering briefly to the slim folder that sits blackly atop white, innocent paper. Like poison.

"I will see you soon, I'm sure."

"I'd imagine so."

Emma offers her a friendly wave, and the Mayor unlocks the door swiftly and slips from sight before she either kills her or breaks down.

_Why?_

* * *

"Are you seriously looking into this?"

"Huh?"

Emma glances over to her bedroom door where Mary Margaret stands curiously at the threshold. The schoolteacher raises the slim file left by Gold as her brow furrows pensively. The blonde raises an eyebrow in surprise and motions that her housemate should come in.

"Well yeah, I was going to do it sooner, but Gold had mislaid the paperwork... Why, shouldn't I?"

"Oh, no, I think you should... I think it's a good thing- great, actually- so long as you're sure you're ready..."

"Wait... What?"

The Sheriff frowns in confusion, plucking the slim folder from Mary Margaret's fingers and flipping it open. She scans the official looking document regarding the Pawnbroker's damage claims and insurance curiously. Everything seems to be in order, as far as she can tell anyway, after all, she has merely been collecting any outstanding legal documentation relating to the storm and cataloguing it, making a copy before allowing the council and insurance firm to deal with the issue. She is about to enquire as to why Gold should be exempt from legal aid- sure, he is hardly one in need of monetary assistance but she can't exactly be seen to show favoritism- when she notices the file to be thicker than expected. Leafing through the subsequent pages she frowns.

"What's this?"

She speed-reads through several of the court forms, each going into further depth regarding parent custody and child protection acts. Sighing, she closes the folder with a frown, before catching the curious gaze bestowed on her by her housemate.

"I, uh, I was unaware that was in there..."

"Oh... look, if I wasn't supposed to know you asked Gold for help, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I just thought I recognized the folder and-"

"-I didn't."

"...Sorry?"

"I didn't ask Gold for help..."

"Oh."

"I guess it wouldn't be the first time he's taken things on himself..."

She glances up and finds Mary Margaret's concerned confusion and shrugs awkwardly.

"I... I'm still sorting things out..."

Recgonizing her housemate's obvious reluctance to discuss the matter further, the schoolteacher breaks into an affectionate smile and offers the blonde a friendly gesture with her hand which suggests she will pry no further.

"I was thinking of ordering pizza for dinner if you wanted?"

"Oh hell yes, I am definitly down for that!"

"You want to share one?"

Mary Margaret laughs at the increadulous look the Sheriff throws her and shakes her head, putting her hands up in mock surrender.

"Ok, ok, one each!"

She takes her leave and trots back down into the living room to place their order, Emma calling loudly from her bed.

"Large!"

"Medium!"

"If you order medium you have to order garlic bread!"

"If I order medium you can just eat the salad in the fridge should you find yourself to be 'starving'!"

"Over my dead body! Large!"

"Where the hell do you even put it! It's not fair! And don't you know gluttony is a sin?"

"You're just jealous! So is envy!"

"Shush, I'm ordering! Quit yelling, I'm pretty sure the neighbours can hear you!"

"Bite me!"

Emma grins as she hears her housemate mutter with affectionate irritability from the kitchen. Smile faltering slightly, she frowns down at the folder in her lap. Opening it, she plucks the two first pages that relate to the storm out and places them on her bed, before tossing the rest of the documents into the small trashcan at the end of her bed without a second glance.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: **_Drama, drama, drama. This chapter goes out to my dog, as the delightful little bastard decided that four AM was a perfectly reasonable time to whine for a walk, leaving me with a fair bit of time to kill before uni. Happy reading :)_

* * *

It is well past midnight when the brunette finally makes her way home, shaking Sidney awake as he slumbers at her kitchen table and dismissing him curtly, before making her way upstairs. She stands for a while within the doorway to Henry's bedroom, watching the young boy dream peacefully. His small hand clutches at an ugly, black brick of technology, causing her well-shaped eyebrows to furrow irritably.

She had found out about the walkies a little over a week ago, having heard Henry having what seemed at first to be a highly excitable conversation with himself. Listening in a little more closely, she had made out the static hum which carried with it a familiar low drawl. She had previously suspected the two were using some such method of communication- what with Henry frequently slipping from the house or making his way to Granny's at seemingly random times- and had, at the time, decided to leave it be. Once again, when visiting the blonde and patching up her injuries sustained in the woods, she had spotted the twin to the walkie gripped in her son's small hand and had mused briefly about how she could simply slip it into her pocket and take it, but at the time... well, at the time she had been content to just let such things slide.

"I'm sorry, Henry."

She closes the door quietly, retreating, not wishing for her mind to play cruel guessing games as to what her son's face will look like when she tells him what's happened.

_What's going to happen._

Padding softly down the hallway to her own room, she slips into its comforting, luxurious glow and falls onto the king-sized bed.

_Never even did it in either of our beds._

Her fingers slide into her pocket and find the smooth, curious surface to an almost perfect globe. She pulls the apple from her jacket- flawless but for a singular, pale-fleshed bite- and studies it morosely.

Upon leaving the Sheriff's apartment, the apple- the sleeping curse- had never even crossed her mind. All that her damaged psyche could fathom at the time had been the imminent demise of the hateful little bitch that had been playing her for the past couple of weeks.

At first, as she had sat, motionless, at her bare kitchen table, her mind had flashed feverishly with images of pain and suffering. Of plunging a knife viciously into the blonde's fragile chest.

She can picture it too; Emma's disconcertingly familiar pale limbs flailing as green eyes become glassy and dark blood- life blood- spills over the pleasant valley between her breasts.

She hates the younger woman. Despises her for what she has done... However, this thought... this image of the Sheriff shaking and convulsing as she bleeds out on the floor... She detests her... Yet she knows this isn't an option.

And not just because butchering the blonde in cold blood will result in the curse crumbling to nothing before her very eyes.

There had been a time, back in her land- back at home- when she had found great pleasure in witnessing just such suffering. Where the taking of a heart had been brutal and empowering; ripping out that curious vessel and studying her victim's face intently as she slowly turned it to ash. Sharing with them their last breath, their final understanding that the end really_ does_ come for everyone. Watching bright eyes cloud over and knowing that her reign would last forever. Knowing that she would never ever have to be that younger version of herself- powerless as her mother performed that same act- because so long as she inflicts it on others, pain will surely leave her be.

The idea of taking the Sheriff's heart had seemed fitting, had seemed right. But this land is different, and if she were to bury her fingers into the perfect flesh at the blonde's chest, there would be only pain; slick and wet. There are no enchantments in this land. In this land Emma's heart would just be a meaningless organ, beating to its own idiot rhythm, sure to hammer faster and faster and perhaps break should the Mayor attempt to squeeze it.

It would be messy. It would be painful. It would be impossible.

Impossible to encompass the younger woman's heart, anyway. She remains unsure whether her fingers might have just been able to burrow into hot flesh.

And that had brought her back to the knife.

Back to the matter at hand.

Her current situation.

Her intended victim.

She struggles to understand her own heart, her own mind, but somehow she knows this is different. She had thought she would yearn to push the blonde down into the dirt; back into her place. To straddle the younger woman as the blade made easy work of smooth skin- blemishing white with roses- as she watched her suffer first pain, then fear, and finally, comprehension. Perhaps even regret. But she doubts it.

She wants the blonde dead.

Yet, curiously, she has found she doesn't wish to watch her die.

Can't watch.

Won't watch.

And so her mind had remained twisting and churning as the ornate clock hanging above the table in her kitchen had counted away quiet seconds; a regimented beat to the chaos within her skull. She had remained sat as if frozen until her muscles began to scream and cramp, before finally the idea of the apple had crossed her wounded thoughts.

Like mother like daughter.

_The apple never falls far from the tree._

A languid smile touches her lips now, as she lies on her bed studying the forbidden fruit. Running the pad of her thumb over slightly pitted skin, she is surprised she didn't think of it sooner. The symbolism is perfect. It makes the tedious past few hours bickering and bargaining with that insufferable, deranged fool Jefferson worth it.

A small part of her had been worried he was right when he said it wouldn't work, that she was to fail before her plan had even begun, but as soon as she'd showed him the ring, Daniel's ring, she had known from the look on his face that the game was still on.

And wasn't there something in _that_, too?

Using one lover's ring to destroy-

Ah.

But Daniel is the only one she has ever loved.

Sighing, she places the apple beside her on the nightstand, before getting up and readying herself for bed. She imagines sleep will be a long time in coming, but she is under its spell almost as soon as she slides between the silken sheets.

As the sky suffers a languid fit of epilepsy- the moon flashing with pale knowledge behind the ever moving clouds- the Mayor's face is plagued by a similar dance. Her sleep serene expression broken periodically with a distressed frown.

A few miles away, buried beneath the fortress of her thick duvet, the blonde's brow smooths and creases much the same.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: **_All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy._

* * *

"I want to do you now!"

"Well... ok, but just once! And not too hard! I've only just had lunch and I don't fancy chucking it back up!"

Henry beams as he jumps up from the swivel chair which currently centers the blonde's office amidst the no longer needed 'caution, wet floor' signs and waits for Emma to take his recently vacated spot. She offers him an exaggerated look of foreboding as she crosses her legs neatly to sit perched up on the threadbare seat; shimmying a little to ease the pull of her tight jeans.

"You have to close your eyes, ok?"

"Do I...?"

"Yes! It's the whole_ point_!"

"Ok, ok! They're closed!"

The Sheriff chuckles as Henry adopts his best patronizing tone. She is curiously aware of a small waft of air hitting the tip of her nose a couple of times and imagines the young boy is waving his hand in front of her face to test her.

"Okaaaay... Commencing countdown! Three... Two... One... _Blast off!_"

The blonde lets out a high-pitched yelp as she scrambles desperately for somewhere to cling on to as Henry spins the chair with surprising force for his size. She almost accomplishes it too- fingers digging fitfully into the sides of the seat- but with her vision compromised and head spinning, she overreaches, sending herself flying off the chair to land in a crumpled heap on the cold, stone floor. Henry cracks up loudly with laughter.

"Your empathy is truly honorable..."

"What's empathy?"

"Something in which you are clearly lacking! Not surprising, given your mo-..."

Trailing off quickly- inwardly asking herself why she should feel the need- she reaches out a hand from her pathetic position at the young brunet's feet and raises an eyebrow.

"Care to give me a hand?"

Henry eagerly complies; exerting himself with an excessive amount of effort, almost pulling the blonde back down to the floor, only this time, on top of himself. Staggering, Emma steadies him as he trips over his own feet.

"Wow, truly world's most coordinated family! Ever consider taking up figure skating either of you?"

Ruby quips sarcastically from the doorway, beaming at the grinning boy and blushing Sheriff. Making her way further into the room, she fussily folds away the 'caution' signs the blonde has neglected to put aside- despite the fixed leak and subsequent water having been mopped up hours ago- before turning back to face Emma and handing over the steaming paper cup she clasps between her fingers, straightening Henry's comically askew scarf with her spare hand.

"Emma said she could skate!"

Henry pipes up as the blonde takes a seat atop her desk and sips appreciatively at the hot mocha in her hand.

"Yeah, skate_board_. When I was fifteen. And not well."

"Oh I'd _pay_ to watch _that_ though!"

Ruby waggles her eyebrows teasingly as she perches on the abandoned swivel chair, using the balls of her feet to push herself lazily from side to side.

"Well, it's too bad for _you_, then, that you don't have the money I'd charge for front row seats!"

"She said she'd teach me, you could hide and watch!"

"Yes, Ruby, come hide and watch..."

Ruby smirks as the blonde widens her eyes with false sincerity and mouths silently over to her: 'because that wouldn't be weird at _all!_'

Henry smiles- this last part going smoothly over his head- as he hops up onto the desk next to the Sheriff and nudges her repetitively with cheeky intent, grin widening as every now and then she gives him a swift jab back with her elbow.

"So, what can I do for you, Miss Lucas?"

Ruby rolls her eyes at the Sheriff's formal address, leaning back into the chair and kicking off so that she spins slowly round, coming to a stop when she faces the blonde once more.

"Well, you could always pay me..."

Emma grins, digging her fingers into her jacket in search for her wallet, but the waitress holds up her hand and shakes her head amiably.

"Oh, forget it, it's on the house. I actually just came by to ask what you and Mary Margaret were doing for dinner; Granny has a tone of meatloaf left over and no room in the fridges so we're pretty much having a free for all!"

"Can I come!?"

The blonde shoots Henry a sideways glance, offering him a small shrug.

"I guess that's up to Regina... actually... Shit! Kid, it's ten to five, get your butt on the road!"

"Can't I come eat with you and Mary Margaret?"

"Not tonight, Henry, your mom's probably cooked something. Maybe tomorrow."

"Yeah... like she's _ever_ going to let me..."

"...I'll ask her if it's ok."

"She'll say no, you_ know _she will!"

"Well, maybe she will, but I can always try to persuade her... For now, though, get your ass moving or she's not going to let you do _anything_!"

She gives him an amiable shove from the desk and watches in amusement as he goes about scrambling his bits and pieces back into his rucksack before turning her attention back to Ruby.

"I wish I could, but I'm pretty swamped at the moment... I took some work home yesterday because of the leak, but I... well I didn't get a whole lot done. Give Mary Margaret a call though, I'm not going to be able to make it back for dinner anyway, so I'm sure she'd like the company?"

"Ah, that sucks. Yeah, I'll call her in a second then. Do you want any help?"

"Nah, it's mainly just going over some bits and pieces from the storm still, and a shoplifting report from the pharmacy. It's nothing difficult, just time consuming, but thanks to you I'll be on a caffeine high, and I happen to have a large pack of M&Ms in the fridge which I'm looking forward to spending some alone time with."

"You are bad! You want me to bring you some meatloaf over to eat here?"

"Nope, I _do_ also have some sandwiches... I'm just not quite as excited for those."

Green eyes flickering over to Henry as he scampers for the door she offers him a wave and bids him goodnight. The young waitress yells at him to wait up and pushes herself from her chair, fluttering her fingers at the blonde before falling in step beside the young brunet and accompanying him out into the street.

* * *

"Henry, please don't chew with your mouth open."

Disturbingly familiar green eyes flicker over at her sullenly before the young boy goes back to pointedly ignoring the brunette.

"How was school today?"

"Fine."

"What did you study?"

"Stuff."

"Henry..."

She frowns at him before staring down at her plate. She moves the food about on the expensive china restlessly, but she doesn't feel much like eating. Stabbing a pea onto her fork, she brings it to her mouth, only to find she is stuck with the hateful morsel resting upon her tongue; her throat refusing to swallow. Conquering her body's absurd weaknesses, she chokes it down, spluttering slightly, glancing up to find cold green eyes studying her indifferently.

_See what you've done to him, how you've turned him against me, you hateful bitch?_

"Did you go see Emma?"

"Uhuh."

"Sorry? What was that?"

Sharp brown eyes burn brightly as the Mayor raises an eyebrow in distaste at her son's rudeness.

"Yes."

"Is she back at the station? Or is she working from home?"

"Why do _you_ care?"

"Henry! Stop this! I 'care' because as the Mayor it is my job to make sure town employees are able to perform their jobs as best as possible! If the Sheriff is still having problems with the Station's plumbing, I need to know!"

"... She got the leak fixed, she's working late to catch up on some stuff she said."

"I see."

The brunette sighs as Henry pushes his plate away with the vegetables barely touched. Ordinarily she would challenge him on it, but tonight she just doesn't have the energy. She has witnessed the crap the blonde puts into her system enough times now to know that when the young brunet is with _her_, he need not worry about finishing off his greens. It is a battle she is unwilling to fight tonight.

"If you're done, you can wash up your things."

Henry throws her a distrusting glance; his mother allowing him to escape without finishing his plate almost unheard of. Scrambling briskly from his seat, lest she change her mind suddenly, he obediently takes his plate and cutlery from the table and into the kitchen.

Regina rubs her fingers at her temples as though warding off a headache as she recognizes the quiet screech of metal on china as Henry scrapes his leftovers into the trash. Sighing and picking up her own half-eaten meal and utensils, she stalks gracefully into the kitchen to follow suite.

"Is this for dessert?"

She glances over and takes a sharp intake of breath as the small boy peers within the chilled interior of the fridge and pokes a finger at the cold apple pie resting on the middle shelf.

"Get your fingers away from that!... If you can't finish your dinner, then you don't need dessert."

"_Emma_ would let me."

It is quiet, almost a hiss beneath his breath, but it is the last straw. She feels her cheeks burn as she prepares to yell at him for his insolence, the boy's bad attitude every bit as despicable as the blonde's.

"_Henry!_..."

She struggles to find words that fit her displeasure, brow creasing as Henry turns back to face her, because in that brief moment- with the way his naturally mischievous eyes glint at her and his mouth forms a hard line, sullenly downturned at the corners- everything she sees is so _obviously _hereditary she can find only air.

_So? Genetics mean nothing, A year ago, he had no idea who in the hell she was... She is _not_ his mother. If I could do this in a way where he wouldn't have to know- wouldn't have to find out about the realities of mortality so young- I would. Not for her sake, nor for mine, but for his... But I can't._

"... You can have some ice cream... the pie is for a meeting tomorrow."

Henry's eyes narrow doubtfully, but when the brunette moves to open the freezer and pulls out a small tub of chocolate dessert he realizes her offer is genuine and offers her a cautious smile.

"...Thank you."

"Your welcome, Henry."

Decanting an amount much more generous than she would normally allow into a small bowl, she hands it to him before glancing up at the clock that hangs above the oak table in the corner. Forcing her lips to form her kindest smile, she places a hand on his skinny shoulder and guides him into the living room to sit before the TV.

_Another first._

"Henry... I'm sorry if things have been difficult lately... The thing is... Miss Swan... Emma... she's not your mother-"

"Yes! She is!"

"- I mean as in she only sees you for short periods of time, which means she doesn't have to take on any mundane responsibilities. Do you know what that means?... It means... Sometimes I tell you to do things or not to do things because as your _mother_, it's what I think is best... you may not always agree with them or understand them, but it's how family works... I don't do it to be mean, Henry... I do it because... I want what's best for you."

Henry frowns as the brunette regards him with tired eyes; not used to seeing this side to the Mayor. Regina offers him a small smile and turns on the television, flicking briskly through the channels until she finds one of his cartoons.

"I need to pop out for a while, dear. Not long, only half an hour or so... I need you to be good and stay inside, ok? I'll be back soon."

"Ok."

"Good boy...I love you, Henry."


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: **_Not overly thrilled with how this one turned out. I wasn't actually going to include this scene, but I think it ties things up better than not having SOMETHING there. Hopefully you enjoy though :) Let me know what you think!_

* * *

Regina hesitates for a moment, not used to finding the door to the Sheriff's office to be closed. She glances at her watch; seven twenty. She supposes the blonde could have left and gone home, but she doubts it; that would make things too easy. If Emma is nowhere to be found, she can come back tomorrow. She can put this off.

_To what purpose, other than to drive yourself slowly mad?_

Pulling herself together, she squares her shoulders and raps lightly on the door before peering inside.

"Sorry, Station's closed, you'll have to- Oh! It's you!"

The brunette falters momentarily before forcing a perfectly believable smile as she inwardly forbids herself to dwell on the way the younger woman's expression softens into a smile upon realizing whom her visitor is.

Almost as if she is genuinely pleased to see the her.

_And why wouldn't she be? As far as she's concerned I'm none the wiser to her little undercover operation. It would be foolish to believe myself to be the _only_ one capable of putting on a pleasant face, that much I have already learnt._

"It's me. Burning the midnight oil?"

"More like early evening oil, fuck _me_ if I'm staying here till midnight!"

The blonde offers her a wide grin, as if daring the Mayor to take her up on such an offer. Regina raises an eyebrow and shoots Emma a small smirk before letting herself into the office fully, taking a seat opposite the Sheriff.

"Have you had dinner? Do you want some?"

Emma holds out half of her sandwich amiably as the brunette wrinkles her nose. Reading the older woman's expression easily, the Sheriff chuckles with a carefree shrug and takes a bite herself.

"Actually, dear, I came to bring you dessert..."

Regina smirks as the blonde chokes slightly on her mouthful of peanut butter and jelly, telling herself her amusement is simply disdain rather than genial humor.

"Is there a problem, Miss Swan?"

"Apart from being fairly sure I now have a generous helping of bread down my windpipe, not at all!"

The Sheriff blinks away the water from her eyes and offers the Mayor a strained smile which breaks into a gail of laughter once she trusts her respiratory system to behave itself.

The brunette looks away; Emma's uninhibited laughter something she has only seen on a couple of occasions, and given the way things have turned out, something she doesn't want to get hooked on.

_Because getting hooked on that husky, throaty sound and the way she throws her head back and shakes with it seems curiously easy. _

"Should I be flattered or offended by your rather overjoyed reaction?

"Sorry! I guess that's up to you... I'd say flattered... but I'm curious to know what my punishment would be had you been offended..."

_Oh if you only knew what punishment you have in store... How can you be so glib? So easy-going? Have you no sense of guilt at all? No conscience? _

"Hmm... well, let's see..."

The Mayor rises slowly, leaning as far as she can across the desk and reaching for the collar of the blonde's shirt. Pulling the younger woman roughly so that she meets her half way, she presses her lips hard against Emma's, meanwhile increasing the power with which she tugs at the Sheriff's shirt, until, eventually, the younger woman gets the hint and climbs slowly up onto the table, kneeling atop its surface. Regina lets her hands fall from the blonde's lapels down to her ass and pulls her closer still.

_This is a mistake. Just give her the pie and leave the bitch to rot._

"Get on the bed."

The brunette points to the small cot in the jail cell; the very same on which she had caused the younger woman so much anguish what seems like forever ago. Emma raises an eyebrow, but does as she's told; walking over to the bed and sitting expectantly down on its edge, pale face upturned to the Mayor who follows her and riddled with curiosity.

"On your back."

"Why?"

Regina doesn't offer an answer, but merely waits as the Sheriff gives a casual shrug of her shoulders and swivels herself with ease until she lies prone on the rough cotton spread. She regards the blonde with clinical interest, appreciating the gentle curves of the svelte form she knows hides beneath cheap clothes, but refusing to acknowledge any of the warmth she has found when spending time with Emma over the past week or so.

_Almost_ refuses.

_There is no doubt in my mind that I am making the right decision... and with that in mind; this is the end. There is no beauty in death, that part of the fairytale is nothing but a cruel lie. There will be no glass coffin. So let there be beauty while it is still possible. Until the end._

Lowering herself gently so that she straddles the Sheriff, the brunette begins to slowly undo the small buttons to her shirt. Emma moves to give her a hand, but the Mayor shakes her head and pushes the blonde's fingers gently away. She doesn't speak- doesn't explain what she wants- so the younger woman rests her hands patiently at her sides and simply waits.

Regina is slow and methodical in her stripping of the blonde, stopping every now and then to press her mouth to a curiously familiar freckle or bone. She traces the crude scar that runs the Sheriff's midsection with her finger, but ignores the silver lines to her sides cautiously.

_She is not his mother. Blood means nothing._

When she finally has the blonde completely naked- rising from the bed to pull the last scrap of cotton slowly down slim legs- she stands back and lets her eyes roam, musing bitterly that she could conjure a perfect image of the younger woman should she close her eyes, and hating that fact.

"Regina?"

She glances down into wide eyes and smiles. Holding the Sheriff's gaze, she slowly strips off her own finely-tailored ensemble so that she stands just as bare as the woman before her. Closing her eyes, she lowers herself back onto the cot- back onto the blonde- and stretches herself out carefully so that her slim frame shrouds Emma's completely. She runs her tongue teasingly down the pale collumn of the Sheriff's neck before resting her jaw comfortably in the hollow of the blonde's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

Emma fidgets slightly, unsure what is expected of her. She tries to wiggle her thigh to nestle between the brunette's to offer the older woman a touch of friction, but with the way the Mayor remains so calm and still, she soon desists. This isn't about sex it would seem.

* * *

The brunette is unsure how long they stay that way- sharing breath and body heat- but she imagines there is some clue in the dull cramps that pulse in her legs as she finally rolls off the blonde. Bending her head to cast shadow across the younger woman's face, she captures the Sheriff's lips softly and offers her a slow kiss which she only breaks when it threatens to turn salty with the traitorous tear she feels rolling down her cheek.

Pulling away she swipes the droplet swiftly from soft skin and captures the younger woman's gaze one final time.

"You deserve it."

"Deserve what?"

Green eyes glitter amiably up at her, pink lips pulling back into a lazy smile. The brunette simply nods her head, offering no further explanation, and makes her way to the door, turning as she reaches the threshold to see the younger woman casually going about collecting her clothes.

"Don't forget your sock under the bed, there... I've left you an apple pie in the fridge in the little kitchenette round the back..."

"Really? Cool, thanks! Night, Regina."

"... Goodbye, Miss Swan."


	31. Chapter 31

_Just drink it. It doesn't matter that it tastes terrible, just drink it anyway. It's _good_ that it tastes terrible. Focus on that. Focus on_ anything._ Just not..._

The Mayor glances over at the ornate silver telephone resting at the edge of her desk. She feels her fingers twitch instinctively but keeps herself firmly under control. She is tired, having been failed by the sandman after returning from the Sheriff's station, and her head pounds miserably. She has spent the past two hours since entering her office battling the urge to ring the Station.

To see if there's still an answer.

_It was foolish to leave the end so messy and unpredictable. To torture myself with the uncertainty of when and where. I should have served it to her myself._

She shakes such thoughts away; berating herself for letting them plague her the way they have all morning. She is proud, but she is also wise to her own mind, and she knows witnessing the blonde crash was never an option. At least not since finding the younger woman sat patiently in her drawing room before asking her to dance.

_Magic may not work the same here... she may suffer... it may not work at all... she may..._

_No. The blonde won't die. Can't die. The curse must remain._

She sighs, her morbid thoughts completing their dizzying circle as she ponders, not for the first time, who will find the Sheriff. She has purposely organized Henry to have a session with Archie this afternoon, taking caution to keep her son from straying towards the Station. She imagines it will likely be the little tramp from the diner, and this suits her just fine. Ruby may be insufferably useless, but she will eventually call upon the right people. Many people. Enough to create confusion and displace blame.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or are you drinking a hot chocolate?"

The Mayor glances up, startled, before her lip curls into a snarl.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Gold strides into the room, his cane thumping out a dull beat upon the floor, and takes a seat opposite the brunette, paying her murderous scowl no mind.

"Just a wee visit. You had mentioned you wished to purchase a fair amount of land when we spoke a few weeks ago, but I have since then heard nothing from you. Is this still of any interest?"

"No."

"Curious... I wonder what changed your mind? Care to elaborate?"

"No."

"What's eating you, dearie?"

Dark eyes glitter at her from sunken sockets, the golden glint of his upper incisor sparkling at her hatefully as the old pawnbroker offers an insincere smile of concern. The brunette regards him stoically for as long as she can bear before her rage finally gets the better of her and she slams her hand down upon the desk- her cup rattling dangerously within its saucer- and leans forward to hiss at the man before her venomously.

"You little snake... you've been working against me! You told me this was a race, but you've been going behind my back!"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Emma! Miss Swan! You've been helping her with legal advice to take away _my_ son! I have long since learned to expect such low, conniving, traitorous behavior from you, but to hand her over the papers she needs without so much as a word... what's in it for you?"

"... She _did_ read them then... curious..."

"What?"

The Mayor glares angrily at her unwelcome guest, a vein standing out beneath the smooth skin at her forehead. Gold leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers beneath his chin, regarding the brunette with casual intrigue. Raising an eyebrow, he simply repeats himself.

"Curious."

"_What_ is!?"

"That she would go straight to you; that she would fight her own battle. Foolish... but curious."

"...Come straight to me?"

"I had come to the assumption that Miss Swan had either simply neglected to do her job and process my legal papers- something which would hardly render me surprised- or that the young Sheriff was simply not ready to proceed at this point... I had originally imagined she would come barreling into my office in that ever chaotic way of hers and demand to know more the _second_ she saw those documents... I merely find her chosen course of action to be... curious."

Regina swallows dryly- what little moisture that remains in her mouth tasting hatefully like copper- and moves her hands to rest upon her lap; not wishing the pawnbroker to notice their sudden minute shaking.

"She didn't... ask you for them?"

"Not in as many words, but then Miss Swan is hardly the most eloquent person at the best of times. She made it quite clear she wished for some advice, some sort of aid to help her get Henry away from what she considered an unhealthy environment... I believe it was just after that small fire of which we sadly still know not the cause... I processed her desire, and saved it for a rainy day... And now, I need help with some legal documents relating to the storm, as well as information on our new visitor. Hence, I'd hoped she'd come directly to me. I would never expect something for nothing-"

"-You... _Why_?!"

"Simple. I wanted something."

"Oh my god..."

"Are you alright, dear, you're looking rather pale..."

"You planted those papers where you knew I'd see them!"

"How could I possibly know you would find yourself snooping through her things? You mean she didn't approach you about this?"

"Of course not! You... I don't know how, but you did! You planned this! You want to break the c-... you want her gone!"

Gold regards the Mayor with a small sense of alarm as the brunette loses all sense of poise and etiquette and simply screams this last part; eyes flashing dangerously.

"Regina, what did you do-"

"Get out! Now!"

"What have you done?"

"_Now_!"

The pawnbroker frowns but takes his leave; mind churning as he endeavors to process the stilted information he has received. Glancing back at the Mayor, he sees her reach for the phone that rests upon her desk with shaking hands.

Curious.

* * *

"No!"

The brunette slams the phone back in its cradle after a minute of hateful, idiotic ringing.

No answer at the station.

Pulling her mobile from her pocket, she scrolls chaotically through her contacts list; fingers refusing to work as she wants them to. Finally she manages to dial the blonde's mobile and holds her breath as it rings once. twice. three times.

"Hello..."

"Emma! Oh god! I need you to listen to me, ok, I need you to do something-"

"-You've reached Emma Swan, leave a message and number and I'll get back to you when I can."

A small beep and then silence as the answering machine records the brunette's disbelief. The Mayor simply stares at the phone in her hand, mouth open and eyes wide.

Finally breaking herself from her frozen state, she snatches her car keys from the table and hurries out the office, not bothering to lock the door behind her.

* * *

**A/N: **_Drama drama drama. I'm unsure whether I managed to make the last part with Regina and Gold as clear as I wanted. With her suddenly sure he wants the curse broken and that he's somehow set all this up to kill Emma and thus break the curse. I realise this isn't something that has come up before, and had wanted it more to just be that in her anger and growing realisation she snaps and just starts yelling/ jumping to conclusions... hopefully it works. _


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: **_Sorry about the wait on this fic (and on 'All Magic comes at a Price' as well). I plan on getting my dissertation done for Sunday, so should have more time to write and update after that. :)_

* * *

An angry screech as rubber burns darkly onto gray asphalt and the wing mirror of the brunette's Mercedes scrapes shrilly against Emma's bug.

"Shit!"

The Mayor pays the damage little mind; the thin strip of paint lining the blonde's car seeming almost hysterically unimportant. She pushes her way clumsily from the plush interior of her Benz, her legs not quite willing to work the way she wishes them to, and hurries up the narrow footpath to the Station's main entrance.

_Could have sworn the path was never this long before... _

Standing in the dimly lit hallway, Regina stills her breathing and listens hatefully to the doomed silence that sits heavilyy in the air around her. She takes in a breathy gasp before forcing her feet to journey onwards; sharp heels tapping out an idiot rhythm on the cool linoleum floor.

_It's too quiet, too still... Since when was there no noise at all in this dump? Not even the sound of-_

This train of thought breaks mercifully as, upon nearing the Sheriff's office and the small kitchenette based a door further to the right, her acute hearing picks up the faint hum of running water.

The sigh of relief that she lets out is less air than it is a wracked sob. Quickening her pace and shaking away the damning thoughts that have been churning in her mind- like locusts laid to hatch by the old pawnbroker- she makes for the kitchen, not entirely sure what she plans on telling the blonde to explain _why_ she is in such a fragile state, but deciding she doesn't much care right now.

"I could not give a single fuck..."

She breathes quietly, mimicking the expression she has heard the younger woman mutter on several occasions. She places her hand on the slim metal door handle, frowning as her initial sense of foreboding creeps suddenly back into play. She tells herself to stop this nonsense; that if it isn't the Sheriff running the water she hears, then who else would it possibly be?

_Get a hold of yourself... It's all going to be fine._

Pushing open the small, haphazardly painted door, she understands immediately that something isn't right.

* * *

No. Something is most definitely wrong.

Dark eyes flickering across to the overflowing sink, she feels her heart climb up into her throat. At this particular moment, staring into the graying water that pools within the basin and patters lazily down onto the floor, she doesn't think she has ever seen a sight quite so unsettling. Hurrying quickly over, she wrenches the tap forcefully to shut off the troubling stream flowing from the tap.

"_Ah_!"

She stumbles as she trips over something when she turns away from the sink and squeezes her eyes instinctively shut.

She doesn't want to look down upon the source of her misfortune.

She doesn't need to.

"Please... No?"

She whispers quietly to no one in particular before cracking open her lids and peeking down from beneath sooty lashes. With her fear confirmed, she reaches quickly for the countertop beside her as her knees buckle dangerously.

"No, no, no... No... don't do this..."

She shakes her hand in a way reminiscent of how one might wag a disapproving finger at a disobedient child. Her desperate forbidding goes unheeded as the Sheriff's eyes remain uncooperatively closed.

"Emma?"

The younger woman's normally white gold hair is drenched a dull yellow as it fans out limply about her in the dirty dregs of the water that glistens on the floor. She lies awkwardly on her side, the arm beneath her outstretched, her shirt sleeve and chest stained murkily with the damp spillage. Her jeans are pulled low on one side, revealing a slice of gray cotton, and the brunette lets herself fall heavily onto her knees beside her.

"_Ah_!"

She brushes away the sharp pain from her knee distractedly as the smooth skin above her shin is cut open on a stray shard of glass. She notes the majority of the vessel it must have come from is still clutched in the blonde's hand; jagged teeth of broken shards protruding cruelly from between her fingers. Paying her injury no mind, the Mayor shuffles forwards and proceeds to shake the younger woman before her; gently at first, but then with a desperate violence that causes the Sheriff's head to smack dully onto the drenched floor.

"Stop it! Stop this _now_!"

She cries out angrily as Emma remains insolently silent. Raising her hand and ignoring its obvious tremor, she brings it down hard across the blonde's face, before falling back to rest against the cupboard doors as she brings her offending hand up to her eyes and covers them fretfully, breathing erratically through her self-induced darkness.

"...Please?"

She sniffs as the chilled water that coats the floor seeps hatefully into the silk of her dress pants, causing the black fabric to cling to her slim legs uncomfortably. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand childishly, the brunette kneels forwards once more and regards the Sheriff with wide eyes.

"Come on now, Miss Swan... come on now..."

She presses her fingers to the blonde's pale throat but the only thing she can feel is her own heartbeat thrumming through her bloodstream. The flesh beneath her skin is cold and clammy. Shaking her head, Regina tries the other side, pushing at the Sheriff's jaw with bruising force as she digs her fingers into various locations along the hollows and column of Emma's neck. Letting out a loud sob she removes her hands and wrings them nervously in her lap. Closing her eyes, she controls her breathing before glancing down at the blonde calmly.

"My dear, if this is your idea of a joke..."

She leans in close, her face hovering mere centimeters from the Sheriff's pale features, staring down into closed eyes intently.

"Is it?... Are you... Are you f-fucking with me?... You are, aren't you... Emma?... Aren't you?"

Silence.

The brunette's forehead creases as she frowns irritably down into the nothingness displayed across the younger woman's face.

"Miss Swan, if you think this is funny, you're sorely mistaken! If you don't quit this right _now_, I will have you wishing you'd never been born!... Stop it!"

Silence.

"_Stop it, you hateful bitch!_"

Nothing.

The blonde's eyelashes don't even flicker as the Mayor yells hoarsely in her face.

Regina breathes heavily, dark eyes still desperately darting over the Sheriff's chalky complexion, trying to catch her out. Choking back another sob, she wipes at her cheeks distractedly before hanging her head so that dark tresses fall onto the blonde's chest.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have yelled... it was funny... it's funny... but please... stop it now, ok?"

Slim fingers stroking pale tangles shakily away from the younger woman's cool forehead.

"Ok, Emma?... Come on... joke's over... please?"

The Mayor closes her eyes as the blonde remains damningly still and rests her head on the paper-thin flesh at Emma's sternum.

"Don't... don't do this... I... I came here to stop you... I'm trying to do the right thing... you can't... you can't do this now... it's not fair!"

She shuffles her knees awkwardly back- wincing as yet another shard of glass pierces her flesh- and rests her head to the side at the Sheriff's chest, studying the blonde's lifeless features unhappily. Her eyes flicker momentarily to the side, noting a silver gleam from the corner and deducing it to belong to an abandoned fork on which remnants of pastry still cling.

No. Not abandoned. Dropped.

"Why couldn't you have just gone back to Boston?"

Whatever her reasoning; the Sheriff isn't sharing.

"Because of Henry, right?... I... I'm not saying I did everything right... but I didn't do everything _wrong_ either... I love him. Sometimes I don't show that too well... but he has always had what he needed... Has always been looked after. I stand by what I said when you came... I know a lot more about being a mother than you do, dear... more than you _could_, having been absent so long... and I would never hurt him... if I'd known he was so unhappy, that he had felt the need to find you and ask for help, I would have... I don't know... I... I couldn't stand the thought of you _taking_ him from me... I didn't go the best way about showing it at first when you came, but I don't _deserve_ to have him taken from me... I love him."

Regina sniffs as she fiddles with a section of damp blonde hair, running it through her fingers with a sad sense of affection.

"...And... you love him too... I had thought... sometimes it's hard not to mistake your actions for vengeance, Miss Swan... you're rude, obnoxious, crass... just a general pain in the ass really!... And what probably annoyed me _most_... what I just couldn't _stand_... is that _you_ were only trying to do _your _best, too... And of course Henry was going to prefer you! I'm the one that has laid down countless rules, that disciplines him when he misbehaves, that he sees day in and day out... that... you didn't have to do any of that! To him, you were someone he could have fun with, confide in, that would let him run around without consequence... How is that _fair_?"

The brunette's voice breaks angrily as she clenches her fist around the sodden tresses in her hand. Closing her eyes and subsequently sending twin droplets rolling miserably down her cheeks, she loosens her grip and sighs defeatedly.

"... It's not fair, but it's not _your_ fault either... _Christ_ I wish I still hated you!"

She lets out a humorless chuckle before rising slowly onto her knees and straddling the younger woman's limp form in a way that has become so wretchedly familiar. Lips forming a watery smile, she presses them softly to the small scar above the Sheriff's left eye.

"I'm sorry, Emma..."

Brushing her fingers gently through knotted curls, she closes her eyes and lets the salt droplet traveling the full curve of her cheek fall undisturbed.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry..."

Sniffing miserably, she brushes her lips gently over the blonde's pale cheek before pressing them tenderly to cold lips with a sad smile.

_I love you. _


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: **_Ah, snow days... should be working, but end up writing. That's ok with me._

* * *

_Sniffing miserably, she brushes her lips gently over the blonde's pale cheek before pressing them tenderly to cold lips with a sad smile._

_I love you._

Salt water choking her as all barriers come crashing down, the brunette clenches her teeth angrily. Why must this always be the way? The same with Daniel. With her father. Even her mother... and now... the dumb, skinny Sheriff she never even liked in the first place. Letting out a hoarse wail that forces her back to adolescence, she presses her mouth as firmly as she can to the blonde's; her teeth digging painfully into her lips but not caring.

"I... I lo-... Oh, god... _Fuck_!"

She sobs clumsily, her breath catching desperately in her throat before burying her face into the hollow at the blonde's neck, fingers plunged into the hidden depths of damp tresses.

"...'Gina?"

Cold flesh twitches with difficulty as the blonde feels herself pulled nauseatingly back into the present. At first, all she's aware of is the biting chill coursing through her limbs painfully, aided only by a comfortable warmth pressing down on her from above. Fighting against the stagnant paralysis in her chest she gasps desperately for breath.

The Mayor cries out as she feels frail bones shift beneath her weight; whether in confusion, fear or joy she isn't quite sure. Staring raptly down into pale, yet lethargically animate features, she lets out another small exclamation as her fingers find the Sheriff's face urgently; thumbs stroking feverishly over the warming skin of her cheeks.

"Emma?!"

Green eyes blink blearily open as Emma lets out a low groan and rolls her head to the side; brow creasing as her insides revolt against the poison so recently plaguing her system. The brunette laughs in giddy disbelief, dark eyes darting over the younger woman's chalky features feverishly before she grabs the Sheriff's jaw in her hand and holds her prone as she presses her lips fervently against the blonde's, ignoring the salted droplets that stream uncontrollably down her cheeks to bitter the sweetness she finds there.

"You... you're..."

Finding she doesn't quite know what to say, the Mayor suffices to simply find the younger woman's mouth once more and closes her eyes.

"Regina... you're squishing me..."

The Sheriff looks up at the brunette in a way that is almost irritable, and thus sublimely familiar, causing the older woman to let out an exasperated sigh, despite her lips forming a small smile as she keeps them in place just a moment longer. Feeling cold fingers pushing weakly against her chest, she rolls off obediently- careful this time of the remnents of the glass the blonde had been holding when she fell- and kneels back at her side, fluffing her hair distractedly with shaking hands.

"Wha... W'happ'nd?"

Emma blinks at her surroundings curiously, careful not to move her head lest her brains fall out onto the floor, as, with the way her mind thrums sickeningly beneath her skull, she feels this is a genuine concern.

"I... you... You were on the floor when I came in... you must have fainted..."

"Huh... I've_ never_ fainted before."

"Well that's hardly surprising given the amount of sugary garbage you consume on a daily basis."

The blonde rolls her eyes amiably as the brunette lets out a small laugh that carries none of her characteristic authoritative sensuality, but merely leftover shocked relief.

"I have no idea what happened; I just remember coming in here to have lunch and thinking I should wash up the crap in the sink and... Maybe I slipped or something..."

"...Maybe..."

"... Regina... are you... are you crying?!"

The Sheriff pushes herself up onto her elbows- ignoring the nauseous lurch her stomach gives at the movement- and stares at the brunette incredulously. The Mayor scowls at her, wiping away the tear tracks which stain her cheeks distractedly, before growling as she is powerless to stop fresh droplets spilling down from wet lashes. Glaring down at Emma accusingly, she sniffs, before taking the younger woman's hand in hers and checking fussily for any injuries from the shattered glass.

"I was worried..."

"Really?"

Regina looks up, confused by the question, into wide, green eyes, before adopting her most patronizing tone and smirking at the Sheriff.

"Yes, Miss Swan, really!"

Emma offers her a tentative grin, which breaks into a hiss as the brunette plucks a sliver of glass from her thumb.

"Aww, that's sweet!"

"And yet your sarcasm has me itching to knock you out again..."

"That wouldn't be all too hard, I'm still feeling majorly dizzy..."

"Well lying around in a dirty puddle probably doesn't help; come on, get up, I'll get you some water."

The Mayor holds out her hands expectantly to the blonde who takes them firmly and allows herself to be pulled clumsily up onto her feet. Once standing at her full height, the Sheriff whimpers as everything blurs and doubles- frightened as her her knees give way- but Regina catches her easily, lacing a strong hand around her waist and holding her steady until the dizziness passes a little.

_Well this is certainly a lot less graceful than back home... _

She welcomes the thought gladly; it serves to push out any others... like how the Sheriff is able to stand before her now after just a simple kiss.

_It can't have been..._

No. She won't go there right now.

"Ugh, you're soaking!"

"I'm sorry, next time I'll try to pass out somewhere more convenient for you!"

The brunette sighs, hiding a smile, as she walks the younger woman slowly into her office and sits her on one of the jail's cots.

"I'll be right back."

* * *

The brunette kicks away the hateful fork that glistens beneath her feet as she fetches a glass from the cabinet above the sink and fills it with water. Pulling the plug from the basin, she allows the sink to drain, watching the dirty water as it forms a small whirlpool and disappears.

Shaking herself from her pensive state, she hurries over the fridge and searches for the hateful culprit of all this. A brief moment of utter panic sweeps over her when she finds the fridge empty but for milk and cream, but passes when she spots a familiar pie dish rested on the far counter.

_Of course she'd eat it straight from the dish. Of course she wouldn't plate it up like a_ normal_ person and just take a portion._

Reaching for the white ceramic plate, she dispenses of it in its entierity, breathing a sigh of relief as it disappears into the black void of the trash bag.

* * *

Reentering the office, the Mayor rolls her eyes as she spots the blonde wrapped up within the coarse throw from the bed. She sidles over and perches beside her, handing over the glass of water which the Sheriff drinks with ill-hidden distaste.

"All of it, it'll help you feel better, you can drown yourself in hot chocolate later!"

_Hell, I'll make it for you myself, a whole damn saucer of it!_

"And I hate to tell you this, dear, but wrapping yourself up like that; all you'll succeed in doing is becoming warm and damp."

"Right now that sounds lovely, emphasis on the warm part!"

"Get up."

The brunette pulls at the younger woman sternly, stealing away the woolen throw and tossing it onto the cot. With slow consideration, she begins to gently unbutton the blonde's shirt; sure Emma is more than capable of doing this herself, but feeling a deep need to do it anyway.

"Jeez, you just can't _help_ but try to get me naked, can you?!"

Regina rolls her eyes, scowling at the Sheriff who seems to have regained all color to her cheeks and all sass to her tone.

"Well, dear, being so makes you much more tolerable."

"You just want me for my body!"

"It is one of the key factors to my interest, it's true..."

The brunette smirks as Emma glowers at her, casually deciding to ignore the fact they're skating on thin ice as far as admitting the truth. She pulls off the blonde's shirt and tank top, leaving her in nothing but a simple black bra and a set of visible goosebumps courtesy of the cold. Unbuckling her jeans quickly, Regina gestures for the Sheriff to sit back on the bed as she pulls them down, stopping to remove her boots, before pulling them clean away. She picks up Emma's discarded shirt and top and swaggers swiftly to the corner where she hangs all of the sodden garments in her hand over the radiator. Turning back to face the blonde, she raises an eyebrow as the younger woman remains shivering and bare, as though waiting for further instructions.

"Apart from cold, how are you feeling?"

The brunette takes a seat on the edge of the bed, draping the throw securely over the blonde's shoulders and, despite her better judgement, pulling the Sheriff closer to her.

_It's just for body heat..._

She imagines this argument would hold up even less if she were to run her fingers through messy curls. She does it anyway.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

The Mayor raises an eyebrow as the blonde nestles herself further into the crook of her arm, this display of gentle affection and submission not one she is used to from Emma.

"I could ask you the same thing?...If you don't like it, I'll happily stop..."

Regina mutters disdainfully, only to have the Sheriff grin up at her cattily.

"Nope, you're good... I was meaning to ask you though... Is everything alright?"

"Hmm?"

The Mayor frowns distractedly, her senses suddenly on edge as the Sheriff twists herself uncomfortably to be able to regard her companion properly.

"It's just, yesterday you seemed in a weird mood... back at my place too... I wondered if I'd done something?"

"No... No, dear, you didn't do anything..."

"But-"

The Mayor cuts her off quickly, not wanting to discuss the matter any further. Her eyes widen as the blonde pushes back into her kiss viciously before toppling them so that she is pinned beneath her.

_So much for remaining weak and tired..._

"Miss Swan, what-"

"-You're wearing too many clothes..."

Emma growls as she leans forward to taste the flesh at the brunette's neck, her fingers making fast work of the pearl clasps that line the front of her silken shirt. Regina sighs, her hands roaming the familiar planes of the blonde's back- desperate for the feel of muscle and bone rippling chaotically beneath smooth skin- a sensation she has come to know so well. Pulling the younger woman down flush onto her, ignoring the Sheriff's irritable grumbling and obvious desire to get down to business, she holds her that way, tightly, for as long as she is allowed, murmuring into the blonde's ear as she breathes in the scent of her shampoo.

"It's always a competition with you, isn't it, dear."

* * *

**A/N: **_Well I hope I didn't mess this scene up too badly :) Also, I didn't want to deal with the breaking of the curse in its entirety, as I don't think it suits the tone of this fic and I'm already dealing with 'post-curse' in my 'All Magic Comes with a Price' fic. Hopefully that's ok :) I'm debating writing a snowy one-shot now due to sitting here with hot chocolate and ignoring the work that determines my future ;)_


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: **_You can blame this chapter entirely on the guest reviewer that thanked me for the link to the 'Swan Queen-Casual Sex' youtube vid I mentioned a while back, leading me to watch it again, leading me to have no CHOICE but to update... Well played, you sly fox, well played..._

* * *

Regina watches silently as the blonde goes about pulling on her pants which have dried mercifully quickly with the aid of the radiator. Emma dresses herself lazily, standing around in just her jeans and bra as she checks the answer machine for messages. Catching the brunette's stare, she offers an impish grin and pulls her hair back into a messy pony-tail, the action serving to flex her stomach muscles appetisingly. The Mayor rolls her eyes with a smirk.

"Not that I'm not enjoying the show or anything, but were you planning on getting dressed at any point, dear? Only, public decency laws go out the window if the Sheriff herself can't abide by them."

"Huh, now there's a fun thought... Just imagine-"

"-I'd rather not, Miss Swan, not everyone in the town is in quite as... delectable... shape as you are..."

"Delectable?"

"You can look it up when you get home."

"I know what it means! I've just never been complemented so by one as... beguiling... as you are."

"Are you mocking me, Sheriff?"

"Mocking _you_? Surely not, Madame Mayor!"

Emma offers a playful flash of her tongue between her teeth before turning and pulling on her dirtied shirt, not bothering with the wisp of an undershirt which still rests upon the radiator. She sidles over to her desk, buttoning herself up as she goes, before taking a seat and playing with a stray curl of hair between her fingers as she glances up at the brunette.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I'm not..."

"Could have fooled me."

Regina sighs and gets up to make her way to chair that waits emptily across from the Sheriff. She fastens the clasp to her dress pants primly, deftly tucking her shirt back in place, while striving to ignore the debauched dampness of the material between her legs.

As has so frequently been the case, their love-making had been hard and fast. Once she had managed to wrestle herself from Regina's tight embrace, the blonde had proceeded to bear down on the older woman with an animalistic display of lust; all tongue and heat as her fingers had found their desired destination with talented ease. It had taken only a short number of minutes before the brunette had been shaking and clenching beneath her.

The Mayor ponders this thought with a sense of disquiet. She would in no way argue that she had not _enjoyed_ the Sheriff's amorous attentions- the wetness so candidly present beneath ivory lace speaks volumes- but she can't help feeling a little agitated none the less.

She would have liked to have held the blonde a little longer.

To appreciate her vitality.

_Am I supposed to continue as though nothing has happened?... I'm not sure that I can..._

No. But there is also no way of explaining her current predicament to Emma, who remains excruciatingly naive to recent events.

"You're doing it again..."

"What's that, dear?"

"Staring at me..."

Regina huffs irritably, but continues to hold the younger woman's bright gaze as it falls upon her. The Sheriff raises an eyebrow curiously, before diverting her attention to the papers which litter her desk.

"Did you want something else?"

For a moment, the brunette cringes at Emma's words, but when the blonde glances back up, there is none of her patent stoic impatience, only simple intrigue, and the Mayor supposes she can understand the question; she has never before stuck around after their simple carnal pleasures have been completed.

"I..."

_I... I what? I'm glad you're alive? I'm sorry!? I just want to be around you a little longer?... Is that so terrible? _

"No, Miss Swan, that will be all."

The blonde frowns as Regina pushes herself gracefully from the seat she has only so recently taken. She's pretty sure she's missed some small shift in atmosphere- some sort of 'sign' from the alluring brunette- but she can't quite place what it might have been. Watching the older woman's back as she strides elegantly towards the door, she runs the tip of her tongue thoughtfully between her teeth before attempting to shrug her confusion away.

"I trust you're feeling well enough to be left to fend for yourself, Sheriff?"

The Mayor raises an eyebrow as she reaches the doorway, turning to regard the blonde with a abrupt air of indifference.

"Yeah, I feel fine... I guess I really _must've_ slipped or something... "

The Sheriff's brow creases momentarily as she inwardly finds herself peculiarly doubting this explanation. But it is the only one she has, and so she merely lets her expression soften and shoots the brunette a friendly smile.

"It's all good!"

"I'm glad... Well, farewell, my dear"

"See you."

Regina offers a curt little wave before disappearing swiftly into the hallway where she pauses a moment to collect her thoughts. Running a cool hand distractedly over her brow, she tries to battle away the odd sense of grief which still lingers. Grief... and hurt.

She scolds herself for it.

_You are a fool. You know full well that the Sheriff is, at best, emotionally stunted, and really, what did you expect? That she would somehow grasp the magnitude of what could have happened? That she should possess the same hateful smoldering cauldron of emotions you currently find yourself in possession of. Stop this. Emma lives. That should suffice._

_Yes, but she shouldn't. It shouldn't be possible. Not without-_

"Enough!"

The Mayor mutters angrily, storming quickly down the hall and to her car. She catches a glimpse of black paint marring obnoxious yellow as she settles into the plush leather driver's seat and sighs. She briefly contemplates getting back out of her Benz to try and erase the accusatory scrape, but eventually decides against it.

She doubts the blonde will notice it anyway.

* * *

Strolling leisurely along the sidewalk, Emma sips appreciatively at the sweet concoction pleasantly numbing her hand. She is no doctor, but she imagines that if she were to ask a member of the profession, they would agree a root beer float to _absolutely_ be the best medicine to ward off any further fainting spells.

"Hey! Kid! Henry!"

She yells cheerfully as she spots the boy's small form up ahead. Henry turns quickly, peering about before spotting the blonde and breaking into a wide grin. She jogs a little to catch up with him before falling neatly into step as he proceeds to walk on.

"Emma! What are you doing? Don't you have work?"

"Yeah, but I took a break to get provisions."

She shakes the large plastic cup from the diner to emphasize her point before offering it to the young brunet as he extends a small hand in amiable request.

"Are you headed home?"

"Nah, I have a session with Archie."

Henry smiles and hands the blonde back her drink as they near the station. Glancing at her curiously as she continues past the logical cut-through point in favor of remaining at his side, he stops and regards her inquisitively.

"Did you want something else, Emma?"

"Huh... Oh, no, I was just thinking..."

She frowns, inwardly a little offended at his apparent dismissal although she knows she shouldn't be.

"Okay...?"

"Well, have a good session, kid, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Uhuh, I want to show you something in my book!"

"Henry..."

"No, it's really important! I swear!"

"Okay, well, we'll look at it tomorrow then."

Henry beams, hurrying off up the street with a brief wave and a yelled goodbye. Emma grins and turns back to the station, tossing her empty soda cup in the trashcan outside.

_"Did you want something else?"_

She pauses with her hand on the door knob, brow furrowing. With a sigh she enters the building, trudging down the hall to her office as the reasoning behind the brunette's abrupt departure dawns on her slowly.

_Oh come on, it was a fucking legitimate question! It's hardly _my_ fault she took it so personally._

_What... Like you took it personally when Henry asked you the very same thing you mean?_

"Fuck."

Rolling her eyes and collapsing into her chair, she stares moodily at the cells that line the opposite wall. She supposes she can understand how her question may have been misconstrued. She recalls the Mayor's evident distress as she had regained consciousness; the image of Regina crying- actually _crying_- filling her with a heavy sense of unease which borders on guilt.

The brunette had shown her an uncharacteristically overt display of kindness.

And she... well she had fucked her before basically enquiring- however indirectly- what the hell she was still hanging around for.

"Goddammit, Swan, you're an asshole."

Blowing air up at the stray curls that fall messily over her forehead, she drums her fingers momentarily on her desk before giving in to better instincts and reaching for her bag. Rummaging through her collective crap, she finally finds what she's looking for and pulls it out with a sigh.

* * *

_shrrkkk_

_shrkkk_

Regina frowns as she cocks her head to the side, placing the book she reads carefully on her lap and listening intently to the silence that fills her bedroom. After a moments pause, she picks up the faint crackling once more. With her frown deepening, she climbs gracefully from her bed, steps into a pair of slim white slippers, and wanders out into the hall to investigate.

By the time she is halfway to Henry's room, she has already figured out the source of the curious humming. Sighing, and pushing open his bedroom door, she spies the accusatory item easily. Sidling over to her son's nightstand, she regards the walkie with a raised eyebrow, unsure how to proceed. At a loss of whether to simply ignore the insistent crackling, as a small red light shines to the side of the phone indicating an attempt at communication, or to answer it and berate the Sheriff for using it in the first place, she hesitantly depresses the button on the front which lets the user of its twin know their call is being received.

_Well, if nothing else, it should be interesting to see how long she rambles on thinking it's Henry before running out of insipid crude slang and nonsense._

"Regina?"

The brunette jerks away from the walkie; startled. She battles down the childish urge to peer out through the window or beneath the bed, opting instead to simply eye the phone warily.

"Regina, I know that's you..."

Perching hestitantly on her son's bed, the brunette picks up the walkie and depresses the second button on its side which allows her to communicate.

"Miss Swan... what on earth..."

"Hey! I... Umm... crap..."

The brunette raises an eyebrow as she can make out the Sheriff's low muttering- presumably to herself- and waits impatiently for the blonde to regain at least a token of eloquence.

"I... I don't think I _do_ feel very well actually..."

"Really? Are you serious? What's wrong? Miss Swan, you should call Dr Whale if you-"

"Ugh... No..."

"... What?... What do you mean 'no'?..."

"I... don-"

Regina frowns as the line crackles with static, struggling to make out the blonde's words.

"I can't hear you, you're breaking up. Are you seriously feeling sick?... Emma!?... Ok, I'm coming down to the station..."

"No, no!... No I... I think I'm ok for now... I just... well... maybe I shouldn't be, umm, left alone _later_... you know... because of what happened earlier... Mary Margaret's out tonight and... well... I'm not sure if it's... if it's such a great idea..."

Finally cottoning on, the brunette's lips form a slow smirk as she can practically feel Emma cringing through her stumbled excuses through the phone.

_Smooth, dear. Real smooth._

Feeling her cheeks flush slightly, she adopts a neutral tone and replies silkily.

"No, you're probably right... It seems _completely_ logical that you should manage absolutely fine by yourself for the next few hours and then suddenly require assistance later tonight...when Henry's in bed... at my place...at, say, nine o' clock?"

"... Well, if you think it's best, then I'm not going to argue with you."

"...I'll see you tonight, Miss Swan."

"If you insist. Over and out."

Rolling her eyes as she disconnects the call, Regina makes her way back to her room to finish the chapter of her book. She tries, but fails, to wipe a small grin off her face.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: **_I know, I know, cliff-hangers and I'm a terrible person! With uni work and actual work and free-lance work at the moment though, I'm never sure how my time is going to be divided out, so, I figure I'll tempt you all with bite-sized chunks, as much as I'm sure this makes you all want to stab me in the eyes with a fork. Regardless of this, please enjoy, and leave a review (this has been proven to seduce me into spending my time less wisely but more smuttily) :)_

* * *

Regina frowns as she stares at herself in the mirror. Everything about the reflection she regards is perfect... And there in lies the problem.

Olive toned skin glows smoothly in the flattering light of her bedside angle-poise lamp; this ornate silver device offering a subtle tone of illumination she finds greatly preferable to the clumsy yellow spill of the overhead. She sways slightly, drinking in the way her minute movements cause her soft flesh to flex and ripple.

She has always been proud of her body, and ponders absently as she indulges in her reflective voyeurism how perfectly conflicting her own build is to that of the blonde; a visual representation to their relationship. Where the Sheriff is hard and toned- long limbs sinewy yet lissom- she is soft and small. A perfect representation of femininity.

Such a shame then to conceal herself beneath the prison of her wardrobe.

Smirking at herself in the mirror- full lips eagerly beseeching their owner for scarlet paint- she tosses back soft, glossy locks and supposes such annoyances will have to be put up with. For the time being.

Stalking over to the grand dresser which rests loyally beside her bay window, she pulls open its top drawer and selects a set of pure white lingerie; its daring cut and delicate lace a misleading contrast to the virginal hue that is offset shockingly by her tanned skin tone. Inspecting the way the expensive material moulds lovingly to her slender frame within the large floor-length looking glass, she frowns once more as her problem still remains.

What to wear.

She is unsure exactly what tonight 'is'. Her heart has been fluttering irksomely in her chest since the Sheriff had disconnected their peculiar conversation on the walkies, and, while she has spent an alarming amount of time in the blonde's presence over the past few weeks, this has done little to help her know what to expect.

_You are an enigma, Miss Swan._

She is unable to say whether the troublesome younger woman will show up wearing her water-soiled shirt from earlier, a clean version of the same distasteful combination, or that beautiful black dress which had felt so pleasing beneath her finger tips...

She doubts Emma will wear the dress. Not after what happened last time.

Guilt.

Again with that horrible feeling of guilt.

Her words.

Her actions.

The blonde collapsed motionless on the dirt-ridden, flooded floor of the Sheriff's station.

Dead. Or as good as it.

Closing her eyes and pushing these thoughts away, for what seems like the hundredth time since returning home, she pulls out the second drawer to her dresser with practiced authority and takes out a silken black shirt. The same shirt, she realizes, that Henry had bestowed upon Emma herself several weeks ago.

"Of course it would be."

She sighs, but she pulls the delicate material over her supple frame gracefully, a sharp gleam present in her dark eyes as she muses that the shirt's fit supports her earlier thoughts as to the contrasts between her figure and the blonde's; what had looked awkward and somehow wrong on the Sheriff, hangs and fits to her own form perfectly.

Selecting a pristine pair of crisp, white tailored pants, she slips them on and tucks in the luxurious fabric of her shirt carefully. Stepping into her favored pair of black heels- favored, but rarely worn; their higher and narrower heel making them impractical to wear out into town- she smiles at her reflection appreciatively.

Taking a seat at her strictly organized vanity, she begins the slow and methodical task of applying her makeup, deciding that she may as well put in a little extra effort for tonight.

_Again with that! What is tonight? What do you want?_

She sighs as she brushes delicate rouge over the apples of her cheeks. She has no real answer to her own question. Not really.

_To take the Sheriff to bed._

Well, yes, there's that.

Her turbulent thoughts since her near-fatal mistake and the troubling revelations that have come to light as a result have had the image churning in the back alley of her mind restlessly.

In the beginning, as they had gone their fevered, exhausted rounds in the darkening grandeur of her drawing room, their actions had held within them the bitter note of hate. That hate had turned into a feral display of sexual rivalry, which in turn had turned into a confused concoction of begrudging affection laced with hostility.

Then those damning papers.

And more hate.

Hate so deep it had been painful.

And now. Now the brunette muses she is a little unsure just how to feel about the Sheriff. The younger woman has plagued her thoughts relentlessly for the best part of two weeks, and she finds her heart growing fuller and beating faster because of it. She is not too stubborn to admit that she cares for the blonde; this being less an admission than it is a simple discovery. There had been no pretense- no ploy- behind the tears shed earlier today. True, many were the product of guilt, but she is wise enough to know that some were the simple consequence of finding Emma in her terrifying state.

Of viewing the younger woman hurt and alone.

Of strong, pale limbs seeming suddenly broken and fragile.

She cares for the troublesome Sheriff, however unwise this impulse, and she is beginning to imagine she may not just lust for her, but perhaps _like _her too.

"Let's not get carried away..."

Oh, but surely if this was a simple case of post-trauma shock causing her to care combined with the obvious lust she bestows on the blonde, she wouldn't find herself so frustrated at the way their meetings invariably begin and conclude with such carnal violence. Surely she wouldn't find herself accosted by images of long blonde hair fanning over her pillow and of flesh- not wet, not needy- but vital and soft beneath her fingertips.

It has been a long time since she has simply shared a drink and made love.

_Ironically, within the past twenty-eight years, the only two times this has come close to happening- and with none of the sensual romance one would hope for in such a setting... for which you yourself are partially to blame- is with the young woman in question. Other than that... Not since..._

"Daniel..."

The Mayor frowns as she touches up the final coat to her lipstick.

_Can Daniel and Emma really be compared in such a way? In any way at all?_

She banishes the thought. The fact that she is able to complete such musings without a tinge of anger or resentment tells her more than she wishes to know.

"Just one night. One night of not being at each other's throats."

_One night to try and rid myself of the image of how she looked on the Station floor. To try and make up for thinking the worst when... One night without hate. Without it being about Henry, Snow, Ruby, Charming, the fucking Savior... Just... nice..._

She sighs.

Of course the Sheriff might well have other ideas.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: **_Dear uni lecturers... I'm not even sorry..._

* * *

"You're late."

Emma sighs. She hasn't worn a watch since she was seventeen and so has no way of knowing whether the Mayor's accusation rings true.

"And you don't look sick."

Regina admonishes with a raised eyebrow, but she is already moving aside to let the Sheriff enter the grand hall to her mansion. Her critical stare softens a little as she watches the blonde check her boots- black, sleek, not a pair the brunette has seen before- for mud before deeming them to be clean enough to wear inside. With a slow smile, she beckons the younger woman into the drawing room where she has already built up a fire to roaring.

"I guess I'm feeling better..."

"I see... Well they do say that you can never be too careful, Miss Swan."

"Umm, I guess they do..."

Emma follows Regina over to the twin sofas that sit by the hearth with a mixed sense of anticipation and apprehension. She feels oddly shy at the arranged formality of their evening, and runs her finger over the seam of the couch thoughtfully as the brunette goes about searching the narrow drawer of her liquor cabinet for a bottle opener. The heavy silence which accompanies the older woman's search has the Sheriff clearing her throat while she struggles with her own stubborn nature to try and hold a regular conversation.

"You look very nice."

The Mayor turns round to regard her guest with surprise- casual compliments free of innuendo not something she'd thought the blonde had in her- and glances down at her attire thoughtfully.

"Thank you, Miss Swan... As do you."

Regina watches with interest as the Sheriff blushes slightly and stares awkwardly down at her knees. She had actually been being entirely sincere; Emma's attire refreshingly flattering despite still falling in line with her general 'not to be fucked with' uniform way of dressing. She settles her gaze for just a moment longer on tight black jeans, deep scarlet shirt and the cropped black leather jacket she recognizes to be the one the Sheriff had lent her to make her way home in, before going back to searching the contents of the drawer. She wonders what the blonde sees when she looks in the mirror; her tendency to blush and look uncomfortable when complimented in a way devoid of any sexual connotation most perplexing. She supposes she could ask her, but she knows she won't.

Locating the corkscrew and opening a darkened glass bottle of vintage wine with an audible pop, the brunette pours the intensely red liquid into a delicate crystal glass. Turning to Emma, she offers her a polite smile- the perfect hostess- before making her way over to the door.

"Excuse me a moment."

The Sheriff nods, unsure what to expect. She eyes the singular glass of wine that rests atop the liquor cabinet curiously, subconsciously wetting her lips with her tongue.

Oh hell, but she could use a drink.

Deciding to simply wait and find out why Regina has poured just the one glass, she shrugs off her jacket and shimmies a few inches closer to the enticing warmth of the fire which dances about the hearth. So many aspects of this evening are disarmingly reminiscent of their previous escapades in this room, but she muses upon the tangible fact that something is also encouragingly different. Things seem more relaxed somehow. Nerve-wrackingly 'date-like'... But relaxed just the same.

"Sorry, I thought I had everything ready..."

Regina sashays gracefully back into view, a small bucket with what sounds like ice in her hand as she makes her way back over to the liquor cabinet. Emma marvels at how this lack of organization seems to have the brunette peculiarly flustered; dark eyes shining tantalizingly as the Mayor fusses with a few segments of lime before opening the cabinet doors and withdrawing a narrow highball glass and a bottle of what the blonde recognizes instantly as Jack Daniels.

Regina marvels at the fact that the pretty red shirt the blonde wears turns out to be sleeveless and slightly sheer.

Filling the highball with ice, the brunette splashes over a healthy dose of bourbon; the amber liquid hissing and crackling as it hits the frozen cubes. She places a wedge of lime on the side of the glass, almost certain the blonde is grinning at the action, but supposes there's no way she can know for sure as Emma sits behind her. Taking the whisky and wine over to the table, she hands Emma the highball and takes a seat opposite her, indulging herself in a deep sip of wine before cleaning its delicious residue delicately from her lips.

"I wasn't sure what brand you preferred..."

"Oh, I'm not particularly loyal; I'll drink just about anything..."

The blonde winks jokingly, but her tone carries a touch of seriousness and her eyes convey in them an understanding that the Mayor has gone to the effort of trying to please her. She is a little surprised the brunette seems to have remembered what she had told her about preferring whisky to wine, and grins accordingly. Regina smirks back at her, but humor twinkles in her dark, hooded eyes.

"That hardly comes as a surprise, Miss Swan..."

Emma scowls momentarily, but her lips remain tellingly raised at the corners. Shaking out her long hair, she regards the brunette seriously as she takes a sip of the pleasantly potent liquid in her hand.

"I never did thank you, did I?"

"What for?"

"Earlier...You..."

"...I did nothing for which you need to thank me, dear..."

Regina stares into the dark liquid that pools in her glass thoughtfully, avoiding the Sheriff's blazing green stare for fear that the younger woman will be able to see right past her eyes and into her soul. For fear that she would find out...well... everything.

"You were kind to me... Not for the first time either..."

"Your surprise at this is _truly_ flattering."

"You know what I mean... You didn't have to stay and make sure I was okay like that..."

"Well, dear, it's not as if I wasn't rewarded for doing so..."

She quickly camouflages the slight bitterness from her tone.

"I guess... I'm sorry about that..."

"Sorry about what?"

Shaped eyebrows arch curiously as the brunette glances up to find the younger woman's gaze. Emma drops her eyes to her knees once more, cheeks pinkening as her brow furrows slightly.

"For being so... persistent... I didn't really know how to deal with you being so nice to me, and I was worried I'd made things weird by asking questions and I... I wanted to thank you I guess, and I'm not too good at doing that with words..."

"Remind me to hold you in my debt more often!"

Regina laughs huskily, studying the younger woman as she stumbles over her words and her blush deepens. The Sheriff's eyes flash with irritation, but the brunette is sure such feelings are self-directed, and she quickly knocks back the remaining bourbon in her glass. Staring into the empty void pensively, Emma carries on in a tone so low the Mayor has to struggle to make out her words.

"I shouldn't have done it... And I shouldn't have made it sound like I wanted you gone afterwards... sometimes I'm just not-"

"-Stop it."

Regina gets up quickly and takes a seat next to the blonde, her insides aching a little at the anguish in deep green eyes.

"You did nothing wrong, Emma."

"But you... did you even_ want_ to?"

"Are you _seriously_ even bothering to ask me that? Of course I did... why, you think I would have let you if I didn't?!"

"No, but I..."

"I just didn't want things to go as fast as they were."

"...Sorry..."

"I didn't want them to go that _fast_, you stupid girl, because I didn't want them to be _finished _so soon!... You did nothing wrong."

The brunette studies the blonde's reaction awkwardly, inwardly a little shocked at the ease of her admission. Clearly she isn't alone, as the Sheriff looks up at her slowly; bright eyes wary as though she is readying herself for the punchline of some ill-meaning joke.

Not this time.

Regina leans forwards slowly, her intent crucially clear but her actions slow and controlled. Her dark eyes forbid the younger woman from dropping her gaze as she brings a gentle hand to a pale cheek and closes the gap between the blonde's lips and her own. For a long time she offers just the gentlest of brushes over the Sheriff's waiting mouth, humming appreciatively as the younger woman kisses back but makes no further move to speed things along.

With her hand still cupped to the blonde's face, the brunette buries the other within thick, honey-scented hair, moving so that she sits a little closer and letting out a small noise of approval when slim fingers find her sides and play maddening patterns across her ribs. She deepens their kiss, absently musing just how fully in favor she is of Emma's poison of choice now that the tang of the whisky touches her own tongue; the blonde's still oddly cool from the ice.

_Poison of choice...Interesting choice of phrase there, don't you think?_

She groans inwardly, begging her internal monologue to just stop and let her have this. To let her enjoy the vital warmth that thrums from the body beneath her fingertips.

She loses her train of thought when the blonde very tentatively offers up her bottom lip, allowing sharp teeth to scrape over the sensitive flesh. Regina moves her hand from the Sheriff's cheek to her chin, holding her carefully in place as she gently takes her lip between her teeth and applies just the slightest amount of pressure.

Strong fingers find her waist.

"Wait."

Emma pulls back instantly, taking her lip between her own teeth now in a strikingly different fashion and chewing nervously. The brunette watches this curiously, regarding the Sheriff reflectively and feeling as though her entire being is engulfed with fire. When she continues, her voice is low and steady, but she inwardly suffers with her own bitter nerves.

_What if she says no?_

"Take your drink, you can take the bottle if you like... I'd like to go upstairs... to my room."

She doesn't _think_ the blonde will protest, but she knows Emma well enough to be aware that intimacy is not something she is particularly comfortable with. There is a small chance- a very small chance, but a hateful one- that the Sheriff will simply refuse, or, more likely, stammer her way through another excuse so that she can escape such a vulnerable situation.

"Lead the way."

Emma pushes herself up and grabs the Jack Daniel's bottle between slim fingers. She reaches for the wine the brunette has been drinking as well, but Regina shakes her head and taps her fingers gently away. After experiencing the bitter-sweet taste of the bourbon on the blonde's tongue, she sees no way that taste can be beaten. Giving the younger woman one last lingering kiss as the Sheriff holds the whisky bottle carefully out to the side, the Mayor hesitates for only a moment, before she laces her fingers between Emma's and leads her silently out into the hall and to the stairs.

She waits tensely for the blonde to pull her hand away.

She can almost taste the discomfort emanating from the other woman.

She almost lets go herself, deciding not to push the younger woman too far too fast.

As she loosens her fingers, they are grasped more firmly within their pale cousins.

Smiling secretively into the darkness that paints the hall, she renews her hold and pulls the Sheriff slowly to her room.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: **_And some lengthy smut to make up for my evil cliff hangers. Also, I'm not sure if it is just my complete idiocy when it comes to technology, but so far as I understand it I cannot reply to guest reviews, so I just wanted to thank those of you that are reading this as lurkers in the dark. Your comments are invariably delightful and I love you all; the secret perverts and the loud and proud ones. Also, if you do not consider yourself a pervert or are highly offended I am suggesting you are, I still think you're super cool, so please forgive me. Hope you enjoy! Please review!_

**PS: **_In regards to Emma's scar in my fic, I realise this isn't something that features on the show. I had put it in my 'observations' fic as part of that storyline and then ended up linking that one to this in the early chapters. I have kept it as part of the plot in the interests of continuity.__  
_

* * *

"So..."

Emma stands awkwardly with her back lent against the brunette's closed bedroom door. Regina quells the urge to roll her eyes at the Sheriff's seemingly innate inability to avoid tainting a moment with the use of her damn graceless, monosyllabic stammering, and instead just takes a seat patiently atop the plush covers of her luxuriously large bed. She doesn't push for the blonde to come over and join her- knowing that inevitably she will- for she imagines that with enduring such small annoyances comes great reward.

"So."

The brunette smiles softly at the Sheriff, watching the younger woman as she lets her green eyes flicker inquisitively about the grand bedroom from her stance at the threshold. Eventually Emma ceases her mental cataloging and focuses her attention on the Mayor.

"Your room is so _posh_...It's nice..."

_And again with that clumsy rambling; A romantic soliloquy a la Emma Swan ladies and gentlemen._

"Thank you, I spent a lot of time working on the decor of the house."

_Really, we're going to talk about interior design _now_?_

"You did all this yourself?"

_Ok, apparently we are..._

"I like to work with aesthetics, it was a very enjoyable project."

"...You like to surround yourself with pretty things..."

A small smirk touches Regina's lips as she nods in response to the Sheriff's words, dark eyes glittering as she watches the blonde avert her gaze and finger distractedly at the material of her shirt; the rosy petal of her bottom lip once more pulled nervously between sharp teeth as her cheeks blush lightly. Waiting for the Sheriff to look back at her once again, the brunette runs a finger over her own lip thoughtfully.

"I do... you add a nice touch to the room, dear."

Emma's blush deepens as she rolls her eyes and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans, thoroughly uncomfortable. Emerald orbs adopting a playful glint she skims over her awkwardness with a patent blend of sarcasm.

"I'm not so sure that's strictly true; I think I actually clash quite terribly with your subdued color scheme."

She gestures at her clothes with a smile, scarlet shirt and sinfully tight black jeans standing out in vivid relief to the muted creams that grace the room.

_What I wouldn't do for the name of the person who designed those pants... I would take the opportunity to thank them personally._

"Perhaps you're right... It's a good thing there's a simple solution..."

"Oh?"

Emma raises an eyebrow at the brunette's coy insinuation as a smirk graces her lips. Finally pushing herself from the hard wood of the door, she stalks closer to the bed, eyes darkening alarmingly as her pupils blow out. Regina suppresses a shiver as she watches green become inky black but takes the blonde's hand lightly and pulls her to the bed, after all, she is still running this show.

"All in good time, Miss Swan."

Slender fingers find the Sheriff's shoulders as dark lips brush softly over Emma's slightly parted mouth. Shimmying herself a little further towards the centre of the bed, the Mayor momentarily debates removing her heels, but decides to leave them on. She pulls the blonde with her so that they rest alongside each other, offering the younger woman a secretive grin before leaning over her; the intensity of her stare silently forcing the Sheriff to lie slowly back onto the bed.

Again, Regina gently deters the blonde's slim fingers as they begin to make light work of the clasp to her pants, lacing her fingers within Emma's and moving their hands to rest next to the Sheriff's head. She deepens her assault on the younger woman's mouth in silent request for her patience; dipping her tongue sweetly between tentatively submissive lips and earning a low hum. Moving so that her leg rests between the blonde's, she gently runs her hand beneath the devilish scarlet of her shirt and rests it on the warm flesh of the younger woman's stomach, her thumb stroking lightly at the base of her ribs.

The blonde runs her fingers maddeningly up and down the Mayor's back, gliding them easily over soft silk. Tiring of such repetitive actions, she trails her left hand a little lower, running her finger between the folds of the brunette's shirt and her dress pants, before she loses her inward battle with her manners and moves swiftly to goose the older woman so that she jumps in surprise. Brown eyes glittering, Regina pushes herself up so as to better glare down at the blonde. She smirks, tickling the Sheriff's ribs beneath her shirt.

"Pervert."

"Definitely."

The Mayor chuckles, releasing her hold of the blonde's hand to run her fingers playfully through luscious curls as she nips at the younger woman's tongue. Wriggling a little so that Emma's hipbone will stop poking her in the stomach, she nestles herself so that both of her legs now rest between the Sheriff's, the weight of her upper body pressing down pleasantly on the blonde's.

"Hmm... the Sheriff's a pervert... I wonder if something should be done about that..."

"She'll probably get away with it; I hear she's fucking the Mayor."

"And crass language too! Oh!... You're lucky you can get by on that pretty face, Miss Swan!"

"Uhuh, me and my feminine wiles!"

"You wouldn't know a feminine wile if it slapped you in the face!"

Regina laughs as Emma huffs at her childishly, eyes sparkling as she watches the blonde's struggle to keep from breaking into a grin.

"I know _you_ have them..."

The brunette raises an eyebrow and adopts a salacious smile as she leans forwards, her lips hovering tantalizingly over the Sheriff's.

"Nice recovery, dear."

The blonde rolls her eyes, but returns to running her finger at the hem of the Mayor's dress pants, slowly teasing out the silken material of her shirt in search for bare flesh. Regina lowers her mouth to the younger woman's jaw as the latter deftly liberates the small of her back to the seemingly cool air; her index finger now playing over the delicate lace of the brunette's underwear.

As she starts a wet trail down the blonde's neck, the Mayor pulls back slowly, a frown crossing her delicate features. Removing her hand from the hot flesh at the Sheriff's ribs, she touches her finger gently to the angry purple mark at the younger woman's throat, previously hidden by her hair. Emma shudders slightly, her breath catching in her chest, but moving her head gently back to allow better access to the bite mark that flushes lividly against her creamy complexion; a remnant of the brunette's anger the day before last.

_I'm sorry._

Pressing her lips gently to the bruise, Regina holds herself there- breathing in the blonde's scent with her eyes clamped shut as she tries to block out memories of what her anger had caused her to do- until the blonde brings up her hand and cups the Mayor's head closer to her still. Interpreting the Sheriff's wishes, the brunette parts her lips slightly to suck and lick at the livid mark, increasing the pressure as the younger woman moans in a bizarre combination of pleasure and pain beneath her.

She remains careful to refrain from letting her teeth touch aching flesh.

Running her hand back beneath Emma's shirt and splaying her fingers appreciatively over the hard muscle of her stomach, Regina pulls back, finding the blonde's glowing eyes for a lingering moment before inspecting the mark which glistens slightly from the wetness of her tongue.

She feels only a minute pang of guilt. Any shame in her earlier actions is swiftly overshadowed with a new thought. A possessive thought.

_Mine._

Smiling, she sits up, her backside resting on her heels, and runs her fingers teasingly over the Sheriff's jean-clad thighs as Emma pushes herself up onto her elbows and waits for a sign as to what should happen next. Regina licks her lips before trailing her hands higher up the blonde's thighs until they rest at her hips, fingers working deftly at the brass button to the younger woman's jeans.

Pulling down the tight denim, the Mayor raises an eyebrow so high it is in danger of disappearing into her hairline as she drinks in the sight revealed before staring up at the blonde incredulously.

"No underwear?"

Emma shrugs, lifting her ass a little off the bed to help the brunette pull her jeans off.

"They're tight jeans, you can only wear them with a g-string."

"So you thought... why bother at all!?"

"Pretty much."

"...Do you do that often?"

The blonde lets out a low chuckle as she picks up on the genuine curiosity in the Mayor's rich voice. Regarding the older woman with lust-darkened eyes she cocks her head to the side as though giving the question some thought before smiling deviously.

"Every now and then..."

"Do you... when you're working?"

"Why? Is that something _else_ the Sheriff shouldn't do?"

"Well, I'd imagine the Sheriff's lingerie situation is her own business... I'm just always going to be _wondering_ now..."

"I guess you'll just have to make a habit of checking for yourself, then."

The brunette studies the Sheriff intently, surprised at the younger woman's bold suggestion. Smirking, she pulls the blonde's jeans all the way off- along with her boots and socks- before crawling back up her lithe frame to find her lips, one finger dancing teasingly across the sensitive skin at the Sheriff's apex.

"Don't be a tease, dear."

"Says you..."

Emma's reply is notably husky and the brunette grins against her mouth as she slips her finger easily into the blonde's wetness and applies a little more pressure and speed to her movements.

"Regina..."

"Hmmm?"

The Mayor raises an eyebrow as if completely unaware of what the blonde could possible want, letting out a soft laugh at the irritation written all over the younger woman's face. Cupping the Sheriff's thighs and pushing at the muscular flesh with teasing fingers, she watches appreciatively as Emma spreads her legs wider; delicate lines of muscle visible beneath soft flesh. Moving down the bed slowly, her intention clear, she glances back up at the blonde warningly.

"No screaming, Henry's down the hall."

"Isn't that a little presumptuous of you?"

"It's not presumptuous when I know I'm capable..."

"...Is that a threat?"

"No, Miss Swan, not a threat; a promise."

And with that, and an accompanying smirk, the brunette dips her head, running her tongue over the soft flesh of the Sheriff's inner thighs, stopping every now and then to bite playfully at pale skin, delighting in the small noises this elicits from the blonde. Dipping her fingers back into the younger woman's entrance, she brings up her tongue to lick away any spilt moisture before replacing her fingers entirely.

Her ministrations are slow, taking time to touch, feel and taste, as the Sheriff begins to writhe above her. Placing her hand firmly over the blonde's stomach, Regina keeps her steadily in place as Emma's breathing becomes audibly ragged.

Glancing up, reinitiating her fingers, she feels her own warmth begin to pool as she watches the Sheriff's hands fist tightly into silk of her bed throw, eyes shut and lips parted. Frowning as her eyes trail down to the scarlet shirt that still covers the younger woman's abdomen, the Mayor tries to fiddle with the small buttons one-handed, before giving up with a snarl and simply pushing the gauzy fabric up over her stomach. Emma cracks open her lids and looks down distractedly, realizing the issue and shakily tackling the garment herself, letting dark red wings drape down to her sides to reveal pale skin and a simple black bra.

"Exquisite..."

Regina runs her free hand playfully over toned flesh before silently awarding the younger woman a substantial amount of points upon realizing she wears a bra which hooks in the front. Unclasping it deftly, she lets her fingers wander ever more sensitive flesh as the blonde begins letting out low, whispered curses and biting her lip.

Trailing her finger down to the Sheriff's ribcage, the brunette traces the jagged scar there gently, leaning forwards to hover her mouth beside the blonde's ear as she keeps her ministrations steady.

"What happened?"

"H-huh?!"

"Your scar, what happened?"

"I...I-_ Ah_- was drunk..."

"Did you get in a fight?"

"No... I-_fuck_- I did it..."

"You... you did this to yourself? I thought... I thought you said in jail..."

"N-no... I was fucked off with you... playing- _shi_t- you with the letter... letter opener... b-better story..."

"You did this... _Why_?"

"Why- _Ah_- Why not?"

Regina frowns, turning her head to study the Sheriff's features but is rewarded only with sooty lashes and hitched breathing.

_Why not?_

There are so many questions she longs to ask the younger woman as to that statement, but imagines Emma has already told her more than she would had her brain not been preoccupied with pleasure. She decides to save her questions for a time when the answers will be less raw and more understandable.

She decides to respect the Sheriff's compromised privacy.

She decides to put Emma's interests before her own.

Sucking quickly at the dark mark at the blonde's neck, the Mayor moves back down her quivering body to assault hot flesh with her tongue once more. Increasing her carnal attention considerably, she smiles as strong thighs clamp abruptly around her as the Sheriff bites down hard on the back of her hand to stifle a scream.

"Fuck..."

Regina laughs huskily as she sits up and watches the blonde try to regulate her breathing; a slim arm thrown dramatically over her eyes. She slides back up the Sheriff's body gently, playing her fingers absently over the flushed peak of her breast as she waits for her to remove her arm from her face.

"That good was it, dear?"

Emma growls, gingerly lowering her arm to regard the brunette with blown eyes. She regards the Mayor intently- green eyes captivated by brown- before she leans forwards to taste herself on the darker woman's lips. Closing her eyes and deepening the kiss, she grips at the brunette's waist firmly and rolls them over with surprising ease.

Straddling the Mayor, the blonde stares down at her with unbridled affection, before recapturing scarlet lips and humming softly. Regina shivers, tracing her fingers gently over the bare flesh of the Sheriff's thighs.

"I can't complain."

The blonde laughs as the older woman rolls her eyes irritably, working her fingers deftly down the buttons to the brunette's shirt and peeling it aside slowly. Regarding the delicate white bra she uncovers, the Sheriff leans forwards playfully to tease at the sensitive covered flesh with her tongue.

"God..."

"Nope, just me..."

Regina sighs, swatting at the younger woman's thigh lightly in the hopes she'll shut the hell up.

_Well, no, not really..._

Emma pushes herself back up, wriggling a little in her position splayed across the brunette's lap- the action earning her a low groan- as she leans over towards the nightstand to retrieve the bottle of Jack Daniels that waits patiently for her. Unscrewing the cap and taking an indulgent swallow, she glances down at the Mayor who watches her with hungry eyes. Grinning a little as she keeps the bottle pressed to her lips, the blonde takes a delicate nip of the sharp amber nectar before replacing the bottle. She leans forward once more, this time pressing her lips to Regina's, allowing the warmed liquor to slip maddeningly onto the brunette's tongue.

The Mayor delves her fingers into thick curls, holding the Sheriff in place as she explores the sweet yet sinful taste which burns within the younger woman's mouth. Finally, when the bourbon exists as just a lingering afterthought, she allows Emma to sit back up and move herself agily down the bed so that she kneels between gently splayed legs.

The blonde turns her attention back to the Mayor's lace covered chest as she swiftly battles her hand beneath the brunette and unclasps the pretty fabric that stands between herself and her prize. Once the bra has been tossed aside, she lets her mouth roam hotly over newly bared flesh, delighting in the low moans sounding from above her as her hands deftly work the clasp of the brunette's dress pants.

Lifting her hips obediently, Regina groans as the blonde trails her tongue slowly down to the newly exposed stark white fabric that covers her sex and proceeds to taste her through it much the same as she had done with her bra. Running her hands slightly uncoordinatedly through long tresses, she keeps her hips raised in hopes of keeping such attentions going, letting out a harsh gasp as teeth scape the sensitive flesh low at her stomach and the blonde drags the white lace slowly downwards.

Pushing the brunette's hips back down into the mattress, Emma grins, fingers fluttering maddeningly over the darker woman's sex as she crawls back up to lie on top of the Mayor. Dipping two fingers slowly deeper into the brunette's waiting wetness, she moves her lips tenderly to Regina's and begs access with her tongue.

The Sheriff's ministrations are leisurely, taking her time to find the exact spots that make the brunette moan quietly into the secret cavern of her mouth. She muses absently on the thought that before Regina, kissing was an act she'd had little time for. Now, as the Mayor begins to shudder beneath her and teases her tongue with ever growing vigor, she decides her inhibitions concerning the act may have been rather unfounded.

"Emma... I... I'm-"

The blonde cuts off the Mayor's moaning swiftly, speeding up the pleasurable work with her fingers as she feels the brunette begin to become undone beneath her. She grins when Regina lets out a low cry into her mouth, swallowing up the sound and slowing her fingers gently. Smiling down at her bedmate, she delicately goes about cleaning off her glistening fingers with pink flashes of her tongue.

"Christ..."

"There you go again, you're going to give me some sort of Messiah complex."

Emma grins wickedly, flashing her teeth when the brunette merely shrugs from her leisurely position on the bed.

"A deity you are definitely not, but keep doing that and I'll be forced to worship you."

The blonde raises her eyebrow at the Mayor's uncharacteristically high praise, before pointedly sucking her finger into her mouth with a grin. Rolling her eyes, the brunette grabs hold of the younger woman's skinny hips and flips her off so that they lie side by side once more.

A heavy silence follows as Regina pulls the covers tiredly over the two of them. She is halfway through the process of switching off the light at her side when she glances over at the blonde who studies the ceiling awkwardly. Sighing, the Mayor weighs up her options. In all honesty, the thought of whether or not the Sheriff would stay the night had never really crossed her mind. She is exhausted and basking in the beauty of her after-glow, and although she is sure this is something that the blonde needs coaxing into, she can't bring herself to do so now.

Moving with decisive speed, she swiftly switches off the lamp at her side, plunging them into darkness. Snaking her hand blindly beneath the plush covers, she find's the soft flesh of the Sheriff's side and rests it comfortably on the pleasant ridge of her hipbone. Sensing the younger woman's almost nauseating tension, she sighs, speaking softly into the darkness.

"Just go to sleep, Emma, it's ok."


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: **_Enjoy!_

* * *

The brunette wakes easily as the pink glow of dawn filters in through the curtains she neglected to close the night before. Keeping her eyes peacefully shut, she becomes slowly aware of the fact that she's naked beneath the luxuriously soft silk of her bedspread. This realization brings with it memories of the previous evening and her lips spread themselves into a satisfied smirk as she sends out nimble fingers on a quest for warm flesh beneath the throw.

Coming up cold and empty, a frown alights her brow and she opens her eyes irritably. At first, taking in the vacant expanse of cream sheets beside her, she forms the conclusion that the blonde has left her at some point in the night. The thought exasperates her, but does not come wholly as a surprise. When her eyes travel up from the deserted sheets, however, she notices a sizable lump at the far end of her expansive bed, a tuft of golden curls just visible beneath a fortress of bedding.

_Well, imagine that._

Her smirk widening, she gently plucks at the thick duvet, bringing it down to expose the Sheriff as she sleeps curiously. Emma is curled up in an impossibly tight ball with her back to the Mayor, pale flesh bare and somehow vulnerable. Regina sighs, dark eyes flickering over the blonde's shoulders in a hot trail down to the soft curve of her hip, counting the small bumps of her vertebrae which are visibly pronounced in her curled up position. She is mildly surprised at the Sheriff's style of slumber, having pegged Emma more as one to spread themselves out during sleep, long limbs extended clumsily. She frowns as she contemplates the fact that she has even given the blonde's sleeping position any thought at all.

Dark eyes flicker back down to the large expanse of no-man's-land between them. She wonders how long it took the Sheriff to finally relax enough to be taken by sleep, vaguely recalling stirring from her own slumber at some point in the early hours and peeping through hooded lids to spy the blonde still lying rigidly in much the same position as when she had turned the lights off.

The younger woman lets out a quiet murmur as she sleeps, causing the Mayor to glance back up and sigh. Her own dreams had been less than pleasant, and she imagines this is one of the reasons she is up so early. With the blonde resting uneasily beside her, the images that had flickered beneath her lids had been hatefully distressing.

_Pie after pie after apple pie._

_Lips pressed hard and bleeding against the Sheriff's, water rising dangerously all around, the sound of the faucet droning on and on._

_No movement from the blonde. No breath. No pulse._

_Rolling over on her desk which was also her bed which was also the cot in the jail cell. Mattress damp and littered with shards from a broken glass. Both naked. One alive. One dead._

_Screaming into confused green eyes over and over._

_Bitch. Bitch. Bitch._

Shuddering she wriggles surreptitiously a little closer to the younger woman, debating momentarily whether it would be rude to wake her, before deciding she doesn't much care as far as that's concerned. Running a finger slowly down the blonde's spine she smirks as the latter lets out her own small shiver before mumbling through the disorientation of her curious position between sleep and waking.

"Mary Ma-? What... why? Go away, I'll make my own coffee later."

Regina huffs with an irritation she doesn't really feel, leaning forwards to press her finger none too gently to the angry bite mark at the Sheriff's throat, causing Emma to squirm and kick free of her tidy little ball with groggy anger, pulling the covers swiftly over her head, muffling her indignant cry.

"What the hell?!"

"What did you just call me?"

At the sound of the Mayor's voice, the blonde goes deathly still, frowning slightly, before gradually pulling down the duvet to rest at her shoulders and blinking away the last of her slumber. She rolls over slowly, glancing over at the brunette.

"Regina..."

"Hmm... better..."

"...Madame Mayor."

The Sheriff lets the words drip off her tongue like syrup as she closes her eyes again sleepily, causing the brunette to repress yet another shudder, this reaction caused by an entirely different reason to the last. Waiting for the blonde to stir from her dreamy state, Regina pushes herself up a little so that she rests with her shoulders propped up by her plush pillow. The movement has the younger woman fluttering her lashes once more as the reality of the situation gradually dawns on her. Peering up at the Mayor she blushes slightly, although her lips form a shy smile which the older woman returns with her own knowing smirk.

"Good morning, Miss Swan."

"Morning..."

Emma yawns, pulling the covers up to cover her mouth, as she muses that it sure as hell doesn't _feel_ like morning. At least, not a time of the morning at which she is usually conscious. Rolling over onto her back she shivers a little as she realizes her bare state when the silk of the bedsheets rustles softly over her exposed flesh. Glancing up at the brunette, she takes in slim bare shoulders and the swell of her breasts before the creamy silk covers her demurely. Smiling a little, she pulls a hand through her unruly tresses, trying to shoo them away from her face.

"What time is it?"

"About quarter to six."

"Oh god..."

"Madame Mayor will do just fine, dear."

The darker woman quips, mimicking the Sheriff's sarcastic remarks the previous evening. The blonde chuckles, rolling her eyes in the soft pink light that filters through the curtains. The quiet patter of rain is only just audible, and the two women listen to its soothing fall for a short moment. Rolling over onto her side to reach beneath the bed, the Mayor returns with a small bottle of water. Cracking open its virginal seal, she takes a long drink before holding it out to Emma who shakes her head, simply studying the brunette as the covers fall gently down to her hips to reveal her bare torso as she places the bottle on her bedside table.

Regina sighs contently, fully aware of the bright green eyes that flicker hungrily over her exposed flesh and not caring in the slightest. In fact, she arches her back just a little, subtly finding a more sensual position.

"It's only the crack of dawn and already your perverted side is showing, Miss Swan."

Emma rolls her eyes with a grin before pushing herself up onto her elbow and regarding the brunette with bemusement.

"Seriously, I'm lying here fucking naked in your bed and you're still going to call me by my last name?"

The Mayor licks her lips, enjoying for a moment the words the blonde growls; the simple fact that yes, the Sheriff_ is_ lying naked in her bed. 'Fucking naked'.

_Fucked naked._

Groaning inwardly as she suspects some of Emma's crass sense of humor may well be rubbing off on her, Regina smiles wickedly down at the Sheriff.

"It really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, and I'm guessing that's why you do it?"

"Oh, it's one of the positive side-effects most certainly, dear, but I don't see why it should irk you quite so much."

"Because my name's _Emma?... _Miss Swan is what they called me back in the system."

"Jail?"

"Foster."

"Your foster parents called you Miss Swan?!"

"No, of course not, but I didn't live with them for all that long! No, in the foster home."

"...Really?"

"It was sort of like a convent kind of thing; weirdly religious with a bunch of 'fathers' and 'sisters' but not exactly the variety I was after."

"Oh."

The brunette sighs uneasily, trying to figure out if she'd pushed the younger woman into sharing or if she'd done so of her own accord. She tentatively leans towards the latter, however surprised she is by the thought of Emma telling her about such things. Her discomfort abates instantly when the Sheriff smiles easily up at her before moving with surprising speed and flipping herself up and over to straddle her lap.

"Well good morning to you too,_ Miss Swan_."

Regina grins cattily, delighting in the way the blonde hisses irritably and crosses her arms across her bare chest.

"Shut up, _Mayor Mills_."

The brunette grins, leaning forwards to murmur into the Sheriff's ear.

"I know you're trying to get back at me, but unfortunately for you, dear, it's just hot when you say that..."

The Sheriff growls in frustration, before slipping easily off the Mayor's lap and out of the bed.

"Emma..."

Regina sighs with not too much irritation as she watches the blonde stalk about her room deliciously nude, collecting items of clothing. Leaning back to better appreciate the view, she smirks as the younger woman jumps up and down a few times childishly so as to wrestle her way into the tight black denim of her jeans. Emma scowls at her, but a telling curve pulls at her lips, pulling on the scarlet haze of her shirt and gathering her hair into a messy ponytail.

"I should go..."

The Mayor frowns irritably, pursing her lips in displeasure at the Sheriff's quick return to her frustrating flakey self, but the blonde reassures her swiftly.

"I parked my car just inside the gate incase anyone driving past saw it, if Henry wakes up, he _will_ see it though."

_So stay for breakfast and we say it's strictly business..._

Chasing away such fanciful thoughts with a confused flip of her stomach, the brunette goes for something a little more... well... a little_ less_ romanticized.

"Very well. Henry's alarm is set for seven so he can get ready for school... at least have a shower before you go?"

Emma raises an eyebrow, watching curiously as the Mayor pushes herself gracefully from the bed and makes her way over to her en-suite without a second glance. Shaking her head, she runs a quick finger thoughtfully over her lip before shrugging as she follows the darker woman into the brightly tiled bathroom.


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: **_I had originally planned to just leave the 'shower scene' as a suggestion, rather than an actual written scene... but...that seemed like a waste. So! This chapter has very little purpose in the overall storyline, but I strongly believe that all smut is good smut in the world of Swan Queen._

* * *

The Mayor keeps her back to the Sheriff as the younger woman peeks hesitantly into the room, smiling at her salaciously through her reflection in the grand mirror that overhangs the sink. Running a slender hand slowly down the flat plane of her bare stomach, she tilts her head first one way and then the other as if trying to rid herself of an irritable stiffness, smirking at the way Emma's eyes follow the path of her descending hand reflected in the mirror.

The brunette's wandering fingers disappear from view as the ornate glass only reaches so low as her navel, causing the Sheriff to let out a small sigh before her wide eyes switch to linger on the darker woman's pert buttocks that are most definitely not a reflection but the real thing. Fantasy made flesh. Sauntering slowly up behind Regina, the blonde presses herself flush against the Mayor's bare body, brushing her lips teasingly against the tantalizing column of her slender neck; twin pairs of lustful eyes drinking in the sordid vision they create.

_God damn, but we make an attractive couple._

The older woman smiles inwardly, tilting her neck to allow the Sheriff better access to her throat. The blonde applies gentle pressure to her pulse point and the brunette lets out a low groan, resisting her internal instinct to let her eyes slip blissfully closed as she continues to watch the younger woman's mouth assault her flesh- pink tongue flickering occasionally into view- as darkened green eyes hold her own predatorily through the glass.

"You're wearing far too many clothes, dear..."

Regina hisses hotly, turning her head to speak directly into the Sheriff's ear. She closes her eyes briefly, trying to chase away the memory of the blonde saying much the same thing when lying on the cot in the jail cell. Fortunately, she seems to be the only one suffering uneasy flashbacks as Emma simply smirks before taking a step back.

The Mayor swiftly swallows the small moan of disappointment that threatens to escape her throat as the younger woman's delectable heat disappears from her wanting flesh.

Turning to face the blonde, Regina raises an eyebrow in haughty amusement as the Sheriff strips herself off with all the dignity and poise of a five year old boy wishing to play in the mud. Chuckling huskily at Emma's ill-hidden eagerness she wets her lips with the tip of her tongue as her dark eyes dance with carnal mirth.

"My my, a little eager to get naked for a convent girl aren't you?"

As soon as the words leave her mouth she regrets them; knowing the Sheriff well enough to suspect she is less than accepting of jokes at the expense of her childhood. However, yet again, Emma surprises her, offering a coy wink as she pulls the elastic from her hair and shakes out her curls in a way that causes the brunette's breath to hitch audibly.

"Well, you know what they say about convent girls..."

Regina lets out a low chuckle, taking a step towards the blonde so that they stand practically nose to pretty nose.

"No... what's that, Miss Swan?"

The Sheriff's salacious smirk lingers a moment longer before it disintegrates into a lopsided grin as she shrugs her bare shoulders amiably.

"Actually, I have no idea... I just hear we feature in porn on a fairly regular basis."

The brunette lets out an unguarded bray of laughter which feels foreign in the air between them, shaking her head as she regards Emma with a raised eyebrow and bemused grin.

"My mind is positively _racing_ with images of you in a little habit, clutching your rosary..."

"I wasn't a fucking _nun_! And it wasn't really a _'convent'_ convent, it was just supported by the local church and we had to attend Sunday school-"

"-Then my mind is racing with images of you struggling to bite your incessant tongue through Sunday school... in a habit... with nothing underneath..."

"My fifteen year old self would be thrilled she was the star of such fantasies!"

The blonde's tongue pokes teasingly from between her teeth and the brunette lunges forwards like lightening to bite at it warningly. Emma lets out a low chuckle, snaking her arm playfully around the brunette's waist as she whispers dangerously into the perfect shell of her ear to counteract the irritation she senses from the Mayor at the insinuation of her inappropriate thoughts.

"And why imagine me naked beneath a robe when you can have the real thing right now?..."

Regina shivers, the Sheriff's breath tickling her cheek as she whispers. Running her hands sensually up the younger woman's back, she drags her nails roughly down the twin blades of her shoulders, garnering both a surprised yelp and the intoxicating sight of eight long red lines marring perfect skin in the mirror.

"Are you always this crude in the morning?"

"Says the woman who begged me to strip..."

"I don't remember begging..."

"Not verbally maybe... but your eyes.. they were all 'yes, Emma, get naked'... you love it..."

"Dear God, how does Miss Blanchard put up with you?"

"Oh,_ she_ doesn't want to get me naked..."

"Of course she doesn't! She's your... housemate..."

The brunette hides away her air of disgust, opting instead to find the blonde's lips hungrily. She muses absently on the absurd length of time it's been since she's woken up to a lover who has stayed the night through, and how easily she has forgotten the curious arousal that comes from the type of play that exists- inexplicably- only in the morning.

_Of course _she_ doesn't want you naked. And besides. You're mine._

Finding the Sheriff's narrow hips and using them to steer her backwards into the spacious glass-walled shower stall, she pushes the younger woman up against the wall, letting her tongue dip wetly between obediently parted lips.

She slams her hand out onto the the chrome depressor that starts the shower without warning, readying herself for the inevitably icy spray as the shower gushes forth its initial shuddering bursts, reveling in the absurdly feminine squeal this elicits from the blonde pressed against her.

"Shut up!"

She presses her palm roughly over the younger woman's mouth to muffle her scream, but her dark eyes glint with humor as she studies the wide-eyed shock of the blonde. Already the water begins to heat up blissfully, but her skin feels deliciously taught and sensitive after its swift icy torture. A glance down at the Sheriff's beautifully tight frame lets her know she's not alone. She is about to voice a salacious comment on the way the blonde's nipples peak delightfully in protest to their attack, and the way her stomach ripples with visible gooseflesh, when Emma subdues her with a wicked stroke of her tongue along the length of the middle finger of the hand still clamped to her lips.

"Ugh!"

The Mayor retracts her hand instantly with a scowl, but neither of them are fooled by the act; the brunette's chest flushing slightly as her eyes dart animalistically over the blonde's pale face. The Sheriff laughs lightly, the sound becoming muffled at the brunette leans closer to push herself back up against her.

"Behave yourself..."

The brunette's stern warning only serves to make the Sheriff laugh harder, spurred on as slender fingers tickle traitorously at her ribs. Her husky giggles cut off quickly, however, when Regina strokes her assaulting hand swiftly downwards and dips her fluttering fingers into hot flesh.

"Oh!"

Emma lets out a low gasp, before wandering her own hands easily over to the firm flesh of the Mayor's backside, taking a firm hold on supple cheeks and grinding the darker woman against her; trapping Regina's hand between their water-slick flesh.

"If you bruise me, Sheriff..."

The brunette's tone is dangerous with warning, spoken grittily into the damp skin of the younger woman's throat. She runs her teeth over delicate tendons in reward as strong fingers ease up their hold on her soft flesh. She waits for Emma to complain about double standards- the marks lining her shoulder blades sure to be stinging painfully beneath the hot water- but the blonde only hums appreciatively; head tipped back against the wall with her eyes closed.

"Good girl."

She moves back slightly, reaching down for the amber and orange blossom shampoo that rests on a small built-in ledge to their side. Squeezing a generous amount of the fragrant suds into her hands, she massages the lather slowly into drenched golden tresses; the weight of the water pulling the younger woman's light curls long and straight.

She feels the Sheriff jerk beneath her ministrations and leans back to regard her curiously, rolling her eyes when Emma squints back at her with a pained grin of amusement as she scrunches one eye shut against the sting of the shampoo.

"Did it not occur to you to close your eyes?"

"It did... it also occurred to me that when I looked down your breasts were right in my eye-line..."

The Mayor smirks, brushing the back of her hand gently over the blonde's soapy lashes with a long-suffering sigh. Her breath is cut short when soft lips press hotly against hers.

They remain that way, slowly tasting and feeling as the pounding water gradually rinses the suds from the Sheriff's long hair.

Emma peeks over at the shelf containing the brunette's bath products curiously as a wandering hand comes to rest in the valley between her breasts and sharp teeth pull gently at her sensitive bottom lip. Running a finger wickedly through the neat curls between the Mayor's thighs, she steps back to receive an irritated glower.

"I'm not the_ only_ one who's dirty, Madame Mayor."

Regina raises an eyebrow; the Sheriff's tone uncharacteristically sugary. The innocent sweetness of her tone is hot in itself, but the debauched smirk on kiss-swollen lips cinches the deal. The brunette shivers, watching intently as Emma bends over slowly to survey her bath products at a closer range.

Finally, the blonde selects a small bottle of jasmine scented body wash and hovers it periously over the Mayor's chest. Flipping the cap and squeezing firmly, she empties almost half the bottle in a clear stream of viscous liquid; the cool gel running slowly down pert breasts and the soft flesh of the darker woman's stomach.

"What on earth are you-"

"Shh...Trust me."

Regina frowns, but allows the blonde a chance to clarify her actions. Emma takes a step closer until they once more stand flush with one another, capturing deliciously full lips as she wraps her arms firmly around the brunette. She deepens their kiss, replacing sensual pleasure with erotic passion. Their breathing becomes labored and each begins to writhe against the other as hands begin exploring feverishly and simple touches become wanton ministrations.

As their movements become ever more frantic, the liberal dose of body wash the Sheriff upended onto the darker woman lathers up into a rich cream of exotic scented bubbles that coat flushed skin.

Pulling the Mayor roughly to her- hand cupped firmly to chocolate tresses- the blonde ravishes the older woman's mouth with new vigor as she abruptly slams her palm against wet folds and teases mercifully.

"Oh Christ, Oh_ God_..."

This time Emma refrains from quipping at the brunette for her biblical tinged cries, simply straining to keep the Mayor locked firmly against her as Regina beings to shake in her arms as she tips over into euphoria. The blonde catches her sagging frame easily, holding her firmly up on her feet as the brunette breathes harshly into the fragile flesh of her collarbone.

"... shit..."

Regina pushes herself back from the Sheriff gingerly, dark eyes slightly dazed as she stares at the younger woman. Emma smiles knowingly, before letting her eyes travel pointedly over the brunette's flawless body where the cooling water washes away the fragrant suds of her sins.

"You clean quite nicely..."

"... Do shut up..."

The Mayor's voice shakes slightly as she struggles to stand of her own accord, however she still manages a fairly convincing roll of her eyes. Clearing her throat, she turns around and shuts off the water which is slowly turning to frigid ice before stepping out the shower. She hands the blonde a towel wordlessly- helping herself to spare from the airing cupboard by the sink- and turns away to dry off. Glancing at the small clock that rests on a shelf of beauty products she sighs defeatedly.

"It's ten to seven, you should-"

"-yeah, I know."

Regina turns to find the Sheriff pulling on her shirt, catching a brief glimpse of vivid red marks marring the pale flesh of her shoulder blades before they disappear beneath a scarlet haze.

_I think... I think I will _always_ hurt you in some shape or form..._

Stepping behind Emma and tucking in the label which pokes mischievously out from the blonde's collar, she gives the younger woman a sarcastic pat on the backside, earning herself a bemused roll of twinkling green eyes.

"I better get going."

"I should say so... I imagine I'll see you soon, Miss Sw-... Emma."

"Oh, I imagine you will, Mayor Mills."


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: **_Well, I had planned on keeping things a little more light-hearted, but to keep the story-line going, I guess these lovely ladies are in no such luck. I hope you enjoy regardless (And I promise, it will serve a greater purpose in the end!) Please let me know what you think!_

* * *

Poking her head cautiously round the door to the apartment, the blonde sighs with relief as the living room appears deserted. She shuffles in quietly- moving with practiced stealth- pulling the door shut behind her with a barely audible click.

"Out 'running' _again_, huh?"

"_Fuck_!"

Mary Margaret laughs pleasantly, her eyes twinkling as she regards her housemate who stands with her hands raised in a odd display of combativeness, the effect ruined somewhat by the flash of fear yet to fade from her eyes.

"What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that? _Shit_!"

"I didn't 'sneak'! I was looking for something in the cupboard behind the counter... _you're_ the one being 'sneaky'; tip-toeing in... So?"

"... Guess you wouldn't believe me if I told you you were right?"

"Not in a million years!"

"... Damn..."

The schoolteacher grins as she makes her way over to the small, threadbare sofa that stands in the corner of the open plan living room; placing her peppermint tea on the coffee table in front of her and watching as Emma goes about helping herself to a bowl of fruit loops. She remains quiet, leaning over to retrieve her mug and blowing across the steaming liquid thoughtfully, noting the damp fall to her housemate's hair.

"You're seriously not going to tell me who it is you keep disappearing off to see?"

"Oh, I don't think so..."

The Sheriff flicks her tongue out between her teeth, green eyes shining as she smirks at the raven headed woman. Making her way over to the sofa with her spoon in her mouth, she falls down heavily next to the schoolteacher; her gaudy breakfast sloshing threateningly.

"Oh come on! I want to_ know_! You've been acting suspiciously for the past few _weeks_!"

"Hmm... suspicious behavior... you better let the Sheriff know..."

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes amiably, elbowing the blonde softly in the ribs, causing the younger woman to yelp dramatically and choke slightly on her cereal as a result of her theatrics.

"Hey!"

"Whaa-aat? I want to know about your illicit affairs!"

The dark haired woman draws out the last two words salaciously, laughing when the Sheriff throws her a dark scowl.

"_My_ illicit affairs?! I'm sorry, but aren't _you _the one dating a _married_ man?"

Mary Margaret cringes, muttering irritably that she isn't in fact 'dating' Mr Nolan, but rather simply 'spending some quality time with him'. Emma nods sarcastically, propping her feet comfortably up on the coffee table only to have them glared at by her housemate. The schoolteacher offers the blonde a long-suffering sigh when the latter merely raises an eyebrow challengingly, before lifting up the Sheriff's legs and pulling the younger woman so that she sits with them dangling over her lap so as to save her from any scuffs on her coffee table.

"Anyway, who say's I'm doing anything illicit?"

"Hmmm..."

Pale fingers pluck pointedly at sheer red fabric; perfect rosy lips pulled into a knowing smile. Green eyes roll and Emma bats her housemate's teasing fingers away from her shirt.

"So I'm dressed nice, so what?"

The schoolteacher bites back a chuckle as she watches the blonde stare moodily ahead of her, the Sheriff's thorny behavior comically reliable when questioned about anything even remotely personal. Ignoring her housemate's harmless grumbling, the dark haired woman proceeds lightly; her voice carefully free from the laughter that shines in her eyes.

"You best be careful, it'll become a habit!"

"What's that supposed to mean!? Ugh! You've been talking to Ruby!"

"... That's the second time you've said that... what's Ruby got to do with how you dress suddenly?"

Mary Margaret's brow creases with confused intrigue as the blonde silently reprimands herself for the sudden increase in her heart rate.

_Of course she doesn't mean it like _that_. Not like how _Regina_ meant it. She would never even think of it _that_ way in a million years!_

"Nothing... she just... I let her do my makeup the other day..."

"What?!"

The schoolteacher quickly leans over, staring at the Sheriff as though she has turned suddenly green, slender hand resting companionably on the skinny ankle strewn across her lap.

"You let Ruby do your _makeup_?!"

"Yes..."

A low hiss. Dangerous. Clenched teeth.

"Oh my_ God_!"

"_What_?! So I'm wearing something decent?! So I let Ruby do my damn makeup!? What of it?!"

Mary Margaret sighs; Emma's bitching reminding her ever so slightly of any of her children in her class when having a tantrum. The smile doesn't fade completely from her lips, however.

"Ok, ok, so nothing! I'm done!... You look pretty though..."

"...Thanks."

The blonde huffs irritably, but she glances up at her housemate with an ill-hidden, pleased grin.

"So..."

"I'm still not telling you..."

Emma's composure betrays her- her moody scowl breaking into a good natured grin- as the schoolteacher pouts sulkily, green eyes wide with pitiful appeal.

"Nope, you can stop looking at me like that, I'm not gonna break!"

"Emma!"

"Hey! Don't whine at me; you said you were done!"

"Fine!... But-"

"-I'm not going to tell you!"

"Ok!... But... do you... do you like them?"

"Oh god..."

"Do you?"

"And here I thought I'd left high school thankfully behind-"

"-Oh shush!"

The blonde laughs, regarding the dark haired woman affectionately as the latter glowers down at her mug on the coffee table. Sighing and resting her hand at her head- pushing back the her drying curls- she muses thoughtfully for a while as Mary Margaret tires of her irritable glaring and sips contently at her tea.

"...Yes..."

"Huh?"

"Yes... I like them..."

The schoolteacher opens her mouth in surprise, turning to study the Sheriff curiously as the blonde eyes her warily.

"Really?"

"...Yes... I really like them."

"...Wait... 'Yes, you really _do_ like them', or 'yes, you_ really _like them'?"

"...'Yes. I really do really like them... a lot."

Emma shrugs noncommittally, but her cheeks flush a pale pink and she grins sheepishly when the dark haired woman offers her a cautious smile.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"... And do you think they really do really like _you_ too?"

"...Okay... this is all getting_ way_ too sleepover-esque for my liking! I'm out!"

The blonde promptly swings her legs round and springs from the sofa, refusing to look at her housemate as she hurries quickly up the iron staircase to her room to change for work. Mary Margaret grins in bemusement before adopting a small frown.

She hadn't really paid the oddity which now causes her confusion much thought when the Sheriff had joined her on the couch. But now- as the younger woman had jumped hastily up and stalked off- her nostrils flare as she picks up a scent that unsettles her. It bares no resemblence to any of the soaps and lotions she has grown to associate with the blonde. She supposes whomever her housemate is sneaking out to see could have a sister- god she hopes it's not a wife, although that would provide its own tainted irony- or housemate in favor of the floral scent that lingers in the air she breathes... only...

Only there's something curiously familiar to the light, fragrant smell left behind by the blonde.

Something which is inexplicably unnerving.

* * *

"_Ah_!"

Regina sucks her finger quickly into her mouth, wincing as her tongue finds the small nick created by the vegetable knife in her other hand. She glares at the utensil accusingly, retracting her abused finger to inspect the damage. A small bead of blood forms slowly to embellish the soft whorl of her middle finger.

There's something curiously familiar to that sight.

Something which is inexplicably unnerving.

For a brief moment her mind flashes with the image of that insufferable little wretch finally bested by her dear friend- and all by a simple spinning wheel no less!- but then the soft fingers her mind conjures become stronger, slimmer, absent of the ring worn by Aurora, and she realizes it is not the needle of the spinning wheel which has caused this hand to bleed, but glass.

"...No..."

The brunette shakes her head in an attempt to banish the image, but yet again her mind's eye pans cruelly out to show her the blonde lying on the floor of the Station.

Wet.

The water from the over-flowing sink, so cold. Hair like dirty straw. Skin pale. Clammy.

The gray flash of her cotton briefs betrayed by the slant of her jeans.

"No!"

Throwing the knife she holds hatefully onto the kitchen island, she stands with her palms flat on the woodblock surface, head bent, commanding her breath slowly back under her control.

_Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. This has to STOP!_

"Pull yourself together, dear."

And normally that's all it would take.

_This isn't normal._

No. Not in the least.

That morning, after the Sheriff had slipped quietly from her room, she had stood blissfully bare on the expensive carpet of her master-bedroom, brushing her wet hair thoughtfully, dark eyes flickering about the expanse of the greenery out front. She had watched the blonde with a small smirk as the younger woman had jogged hastily across the lawn and ducked into the yellow piece of scrap she insisted on calling a car.

It had been a smirk, yes; Emma's display of stealth comical to say the least.

But it had not been a smirk of ill-intent.

Rather, one of a secret shared.

An expression of affection.

"Oh Emma..."

She sighs distractedly, rubbing at her temples with manicured fingers; holding her injured digit primly away from her face.

"What am I supposed to _do_?"

The words are quiet. Calm. She just wishes she knew the answer.

"I could have killed you. What I did _should_ have killed you. And yet..."

_True love's kiss can break any curse..._

"That's ridiculous!"

She laughs nervously, dark eyes brimming with hysterical tears. Shaking her head once more, she moves stiffly to put the potatoes she had been cutting up back into the fridge. Running a hand through her hair, she does something she has never done before.

Entering her drawing room as if on autopilot, the Mayor moves to the liquor cabinet. Trembling fingers reach for the half-empty bottle of bourbon that remains from the previous evening, and a small smile touches her lips as she thinks of the time spent up in her room; perfect droplets falling unnoticed from her lashes.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: **_Sorry to leave this one on a slight cliff-hanger, I'll try get the second half up tonight/ tomorrow, but I hope you all enjoy what's here! :) Please comment!_

_PS. For any of you who watched the Super Bowl, please tell me I'm not alone in thinking Beyonce's half time outfit pretty much screams Madame Mayor sexy wear... I may use that as a muse at a later point! _

* * *

"Get out!"

"But-"

"_Out_!"

The brunette yells hoarsely, her chest flushed as she squares up to the pathetic reporter. She has used her wicked tongue to dub him a disgrace, worthless, and an imbecile, and yet the sniveling little weasel remains exactly where he stands.

Sydney takes a cautious step forwards, eyes flickering nervously to the hearth in which flames climb ever higher without the watchful eye of the Mayor to tend them. His nostrils flare with the tart scent of liquor, and he can see it glistening within her darkened eyes as well as on her lips.

"Don't make me say it again, Sydney..."

The reporter shivers at the Mayor's low tone, cowering slightly beneath her murderous scowl but refusing to take a step back. He widens his eyes, begging for her to see reason; knowing it is surely a pointless pursuit, but desperate to save the dark beauty he revers as she seems to be coming dangerously close to becoming undone before him.

"Please... Madame Mayor... _please_..."

The brunette's fingers tremble ever so slightly, and her vision appears to be dancing in and out of focus, but her snarl remains painted perfectly on scarlet lips. She takes a step towards him- swaying a little- and he instinctively extends a hand to steady her.

"_Don't touch me_!"

Unbridled anger in eyes almost black with intoxication and she brings her own hand down hard across his face. Sydney lets out an oddly feminine cry, his palm flying up to his face to cover the angry red mark blossoming at his cheek. He regards the Mayor with shocked confusion, taking a hasty stride backwards.

_He had come to the grand mansion after finishing work to seek out council from the enchanting brunette, having found her to be absent from her office. This in itself had not caused too much unease, as over the past few weeks it seemed to be becoming a more regular occurrence. Knocking loudly at the front door, he had waited, growing impatient when no one had come to invite him across the threshold despite spying several of the lights to be on inside. Eventually, after his fourth attempt of rapping the heavy brass knocker forcefully against its plate, the door had been pulled back by Henry; the young boy's face alight with confusion._

_The boy had stated he had simply assumed his mother would answer for a guest, as was always the way, and suggested- with a look that said he thought it to be highly unlikely- that the Mayor was perhaps listening to headphones and so had not heard the continuous knocking. Sydney had restrained the urge to mutter at the young brunet that Madame Mayor was _not_ like the boy's pitiful excuse for a birth mother, and that the likelihood of Regina sitting around bopping her head to the beat of a pair of headphones in a fashion similar to the troublesome blonde was precisely nil. _

_His Mayor listened to music from a grand and expensive system._

_He had removed his shoes politely, before moving cautiously through the spacious rooms, searching out the elusive Mayor. Upon entering her drawing room he had found her, sat with her head in her hand as the yellow light from the fire flickered softly over her chocolate tresses. Upon rousing her by use of her name, the brunette had looked up to snarl at him, demanding he take his leave as a curiously empty bottle of bourbon was clenched in one, perfect fist._

_The ten minutes that followed have done nothing to better the situation._

"Regina..."

"Leave! And if you so much as_ whisper_ about this to anyone..."

But she uses her eyes to convey the rest. The reporter swallows, stumbling slightly as he backs further still away from the dark woman.

Continuing to exit the room with unsteady backwards strides, Sydney makes one last, meek attempt to reason with the Mayor; her chalky pallor combined with the high flush to her cheeks and perspiration on her brow convincing symptoms of a fever, but the heavy scent of alcohol that cloaks her revealing a more startling truth. The brunette is not just tipsy, but in fact dangerously drunk. From the exaggerated sway to her hips and the shallowness of her breath he guesses she's been drinking since the early hours of the afternoon; a worrying thought as the sky has already begun taking on a bruised purple hue.

"Madame Mayor, _please_ let me help you, I-"

"Get the hell out of my house you miserable little man! Out! Out! _Out_!"

The reporter ducks in horrified surprised as the Mayor sends the empty liquor bottle hurtling towards his head; the glass shattering deafeningly against the wall behind him. Staring at the brunette with wounded shock, Sydney turns and all but flees the large house, leaving Regina to fall back onto the sofa as the flames continue to lick at the sooty brick of the hearth.

She is completely oblivious to the fact her son stands open-mouthed in the hallway.

* * *

"Oh, sweet Jesus, _my eyes_! Put some clothes on!"

Mary Margaret throws her hand theatrically over her eyes as she turns pointedly away from the blonde who makes her way down the wrought iron staircase two at a time. Emma chuckles wickedly, springing down the last three steps to land on woolen socked feet. She tweaks at the soft cotton of the panties she wears beneath her gray sweater casually, pulling at the seam so that the material better covers her ass cheek.

"Hey! You and your eyes are damn lucky being treated to all this!"

She whips her hair comically to the side, hand dragging sordidly down her bare slender thigh as she grins at her housemate who rolls her eyes in bemusement.

"I _warned_ you I had some shitty habits when I moved in! And one of those shitty habits happens to be that I refuse to get dolled up just to go downstairs and make coffee! We-"

"- Have company..."

"Ha, no we-... wait, _what_?!"

It's the schoolteacher's turn to grin as she gestures towards the kitchenette where her guest stands awkwardly at the counter making tea.

"Uh... David..."

"Good evening, Sheriff..."

David smiles at the blonde with ill-hidden amusement as the latter's cheeks flush crimson and she turns to glare down at her housemate.

"Why didn't you tell me you he was here?!"

"Well, I didn't reckon you'd come downstairs to swan around in your underwear for one."

"_I am not-_"

Emma breaks off quickly, aware that her voice is unnaturally raised and carries on in a cold whisper.

"I'm not _swanning around_ in my underwear, I'm in my damn _pajamas_, I was reading in bed!"

"Looks like underwear from where _I'm_ sitting..."

"Yes, well unlike _some_ people I don't wear a fucking _nightie_ to bed! I'm not seven!"

Mary Margaret scowls playfully at the Sheriff who eyes her heatedly. David turns away to hide an amused smirk at the Sheriff's angry whispering which is so far doing nothing to stop him from overhearing. Offering the raven headed woman one last growl, the blonde turns to head back upstairs.

Mary Margaret calls after her sweetly.

"Weren't you down here to make yourself some coffee?"

Her eyes sparkle as Emma turns back to glare at her warningly, smiling innocently before mouthing silently up at the Sheriff.

"I thought we were damn lucky to be treated to 'all this'?"

The schoolteacher watches the battle of conflicting emotions warring across the younger woman's face, but she knows the blonde well enough to predict stubbornness will win out. As per her expectations, Emma runs a hand irritably through her long hair before stalking over to the kitchenette with obstinate determination.

She pointedly ignores David as she stretches up onto her toes to reach the instant coffee which rests on the top shelf of the cabinet above the sink, damning both Mary Margaret for its placement- the schoolteacher deeming coffee of the instant variety to be garbage and therefore not worthy of a position on the countertop- and her sweater for riding up with her movements to showcase the pale flesh of her stomach. Mission complete and reaching for the kettle, she finds David averting his gaze from her just as pointedly. Sighing, she rests her backside against the counter as she waits for the kettle to boil and attempts an act of nonchalance.

"So what are you guys up to tonight?"

"No real plans, we just thought we'd hang out."

David's cheeks flush slightly as he looks up to find the Sheriff raising her eyebrow knowingly and he hurries over to the safety of the sofa, handing the schoolteacher her tea. Mary Margaret holds her housemate's stare with a little more confidence and offers the younger woman a small shrug.

"What about you? Hitting the town?"

Emma bites back a harsh retort as she inwardly rolls her eyes at the comment she imagines the idiot sitting next to her friend meant in jest as he nods pointedly at her attire.

_Christ, I barely know the guy and he's going to start cracking shitty jokes about my damn underwear?... Charming!_

"No... no, I have a pretty hot date planned with a bottle of merlot and the lovely Stephen..."

"Stephen?"

David's eyebrow lifts in curiosity as Mary Margaret chuckles and puts him out of his misery.

"King. Stephen King. Emma's idea of a good night is to scare herself witless with disturbing stories."

"They're not disturbing, they're interesting! You want disturbing stories, try Henry's book!"

"The fairy tale book?"

Again, David's brow creases in confusion. This time Emma sets him straight.

"It's not so much the fairy tales as it is being told everyone in town is an embodiment of them..."

"Really? How weird! Who does he think we all are?"

"Well-"

Mary Margaret trails off after a sharp glance from the blonde. The Sheriff shrugs awkwardly, suddenly a little uncomfortable about sharing her son's private thoughts with David Nolan.

_And not just because of the whole fucked up Charming thing... It's... well it's _our_ thing..._

Leaving the question unanswered, the blonde turns to make her coffee, stirring the steaming dark liquid a few times with a spoon before tossing the utensil into the sink with a small clunk. She takes her drink and moves to disappear upstairs again, glowering at the schoolteacher as she passes her in return for the awkward five minutes just spent in the kitchen. Mary Margaret smiles innocently, muttering sweetly.

"Maybe you should think twice about bad mouthing my use of a nightgown, hmm?"

"Maybe."

The raven headed woman chuckles amiably as the blonde holds her hand behind her as she leaves, discreetly flipping her the bird.

* * *

"Emma... Emma...?"

Emma places the wine she holds in her hand carefully to rest on her nightstand before rolling over onto her stomach to reach for the walkie that lies at the far end of her bed.

"Hey kid, what's up?"

"Emma... can I stay with you tonight?"

"...Huh?"

The blonde frowns in confusion, eyeing the blocky phone in her hand curiously.

"Can I stay at yours?"

"...Uh... Your mom probably wouldn't like that..."

_Unless... Surely Regina hasn't permitted Henry to stay the night? She is changing, for sure, but the boy hasn't even been over for _dinner_ with her knowing blessing._

"...-bad"

"What, Henry?"

Emma pulls herself from her thoughts quickly, sheepish at having paid Henry only half of her attention.

"She... something's wrong... she's acting... bad..."

"What do you mean she's 'acting bad'?"

The Sheriff swings herself round so she sits up on the bed, the warm buzz of the wine deserting her instantly.

"I don't know... she's angry... and she threw a bottle and there's glass on the floor and I-"

"What?! Henry, are you ok?"

Slim fingers wrestle through tangled curls distractedly as the blonde switches the walkie to her other hand, already moving to pick her jeans up off the floor.

"Yes, but I... Can you come get me?"

"I... I'm coming over right now, ok?"

"Ok."

Emma frowns, depressing the communication button. She wrestles on her jeans quickly, before pulling on her boots with vicious determination. Henry's call has spooked her and the brief thought she spares over the fact she has polished off half a bottle of wine is almost immediately overruled with worry for her kid.

_Not just the kid...Worry about what the hell could be wrong with the Regina..._

* * *

"Regina!"

Emma raps her knuckles hard against the stately door to the Mayor's mansion. For a hatefully long time her knocking goes unanswered, but then finally a pale face peeks into view as Henry cracks the door open an inch to spy her on the doorstep. Confirming it to be the Sheriff, he opens it fully, pulling at her hand to lead her inside.

"Kid, what's going on? Where's your mom?"

She doesn't listen for an answer, instead patting the young brunet down carefully and scrutinizing him clinically until she is sure he is unharmed, before moving off towards the drawing room where she can see the telling light of the fire dancing through the crack beneath the door.

"She's gone mad!"

Henry's voice is high and panicked and the blonde turns to him and places a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Go wait in the kitchen, ok?"

"But-"

"Please, Henry."

He frowns, but she trusts he'll listen to her and hurries over to the drawing room on slightly shaky legs. Knocking softly, she lets herself in without waiting for an invertation.

* * *

"Oh shit..."

The Sheriff glances down at the fractured glass that studs the stone at her feet before making her way over to the brunette who lies reclined awkwardly on the sofa.

"Regina?"

The Mayor's eyelids flutter open with a frown as she bats away the irritable fingers scuttling over her like spiders. Glaring up at the blonde in confusion, she attempts to bark at her to get the hell out, only to let out a low groan.

"How much have you had to drink?"

The brunette scowls up at the pale face that looms close to hers like the moon, and shakes her head. Emma crouches down onto her haunches, looking up into the darker woman's face with unmasked concern. The latter simply lets out another groan.

"Regina... god, what's wrong with you? Why have you... Why?"

"Why are you here?"

"Hen-... to check if you're okay! What the hell have you _done_?"

The blonde points over to the shattered remains of the Jack Daniel's bottle with wide eyes and Regina grumbles at her to shut the hell up as she moves round to push herself up off the sofa. She slaps Emma's helping hands away angrily, before collapsing unsteadily onto the floor with a small cry of frustration. The Sheriff sighs, moving to stand behind the older woman and finding the hollows of her armpits so as to hoist her back up.

"What are you doing?"

"... Henry..."

Emma looks up to find the small boy watching them from the threshold. Clearing her throat she pulls the brunette slowly back onto the sofa.

"Your mom's sick, kid."

"No she's not."

This time Regina looks up at the boy too when he speaks, his tone ice cold. The blonde frowns, not accustomed to hearing Henry speak in such a way.

"She's not sick. She's _drunk_."

Henry kicks at the glass that litters the floor pointedly, glaring at the brunette on the sofa with narrowed eyes. Emma shakes her head, turning back to Regina who now clutches at her arm painfully and she speaks over her shoulder.

"Kid, I'll take care of this, you need to go to bed."

"Why are you being_ nice_ to her?! I thought you were coming to take me home! It's _her_ fault she's drunk!"

"Henry!"

The blonde glances down at the Mayor cautiously, but is astounded to find not shock in the dark eyes that struggle to focus, but simply a hateful sadness. She imagines the kid's tone is much more familiar to the brunette.

"It's_ true_!"

Henry states, crossing his arms petulantly across his chest as he watches the Sheriff pull his mother back onto her feet and slings a slender arm over her neck to help support the older woman. He pouts as Emma throws him a warning glance, moving aside to let the blonde struggle through the door with the Mayor, who struggles weakly to push her away.

"She's not_ sick_, she's _drunk_! She's_ bad_! She's an evil witch and I-"

"_Henry!_ Go to bed. _Now!_"

The small boy flinches visibly, staring up at the blonde in shock before turning tail and running up the stairs without a second glance. Emma winces as a door above them slams, not quite able to believe she'd yelled at the boy.

"And now you're no better than I am, Miss Swan..."

The Sheriff glares down at the brunette leant against her, but with the way Regina slurs her words and rolls her eyes, she decides to let such things slide.

_What if she's right though? What if he doesn't like me anymore after what I just did..._

Battling such thoughts away with difficulty, the blonde commits to the task at hand and struggles onwards with her intoxicated burden. She manages a few strides more before coming to an exhausted stop. Regina's lids have drooped to half-mast and she decides to act on impulse and fuck the consequences. Reaching down awkwardly, she finds the crook of the Mayor's knees and pulls the brunette up into a shaky fireman's hold. Panting a little, she makes her way up the stairs, cursing the older woman for the scale of her house as she carries her carefully to her bedroom.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: **_And part 2. For those of you who didn't like the fact Regina got drunk, I'm sorry, and it probably would have been better to have the whole chapter up as one as a better explanation as to her feelings. Unfortunately, that said, I'm not too sure how well this turned out, but that might just be because I've been sitting here with several cans of beer staring at it for the past hour hoping for magic. I really hope you enjoy though, and that the unsureness is just me! :) Please comment._

* * *

The blonde offloads the Mayor gently onto the plush covers of her bed, trying to ignore the cramps that ravage the muscles of her arms. Massaging the flesh at her biceps she admonishes the darker woman with a kind grimace, muttering playfully.

"If you have plans of becoming a regular alcoholic, I'm going to have to insist you go on a diet or invest in a chair-lift."

"Shu'up."

She pulls at Regina's shoulder to position the brunette on her side as the latter's fingers find her wrist weakly and take hold. Emma sighs before gently plucking the older woman's hand away and turning for the door.

"Emma?..."

Dark eyes find her blearily and the Sheriff moves quickly back over to the bed, bending low so that her face is level with the Mayor's.

"I'm just going downstairs for a second, ok? I need to get you some water or you'll be spending tomorrow on your back with the blinds drawn... I'll be right back."

The blonde smiles despite herself at the curious wave of relief that touches the darker woman's features before hurrying out of the room and down the hallway.

As she reaches the top of the stairs, she glances over at the door on the far side of the hall with a frown. Nibbling her lip, she moves quietly in that direction and knocks softly on the solid wood. She receives no reply, but slowly pushes the door open, peeking into the darkness of her son's bedroom.

Henry lies on top of his covers, still dressed in his clothes, with his back to her. She wants more than anything to pad softly over and pull the boy to her but she can't. Not just because of Regina's current state, or the fact that she sits in the Mayor's house- the latter having made her thoughts on Emma and Henry spending time together perfectly clear- but she's just not made that way. She is unsure what emotion will be released if she goes and comforts the boy, and this stops her from entering the room any further. Instead she clears her throat and speaks quietly.

"Henry?... I'm sorry I yelled at you... I shouldn't have... I... Your mom _is_ sick... She was drinking you're right, but I think she's upset about something and I didn't want what you said to make it worse and I guess I didn't go about it in the best way... I... I didn't mean to snap at you, kid... I'm sorry?"

The blonde holds her breath as she waits for an answer but Henry remains stoically silent. With a sigh, she pads defeatedly out the room, closing the door softly behind her.

She remains oblivious to the fact that her son lies fast asleep, a victim of the stress of the evening.

Hurrying down the stairs, the Sheriff makes her way into the kitchen, opening various cabinets and cupboards until she finds a stack of nihilistically simple glasses. She recalls the brunette's presumed preference for bottled water from the previous night- _Shit,_ _I'm becoming a god damned _regular_ at le maison de Mills- _but a brief check in the fridge comes up empty.

"Well, fuck it, tap water isn't going to kill her."

She pours the water carefully, not filling the glass too high as she doubts Regina's motor skills will be up to their usual standards. Spying a neat pile of laundry waiting in the conjoined utility room, the blonde selects a soft, blue flannel and holds it under the cold water to soak before ringing it out.

When she reenters the Mayor's bedroom, she finds her once more lying on her back with her eyes closed. Creeping quietly closer to the darker woman, she places her hand gently on the brunette's shoulder so as not to startle her when she perches on the edge of the bed. Regina's eyes flicker open and Emma is pleased to see that the delirious quality of intoxication has now been replaced by the hazy, delayed exhaustion with which she is all too familiar herself.

"Drink."

The brunette shakes her head weakly and the Sheriff mimics her with greater conviction, sliding her arm beneath the older woman's shoulders and propping her up with no concern to the latter's moaned protest.

"Uh uh, I wasn't asking. Drink."

Regina rolls her eyes feebly and takes a few sips before shaking her head once more. This time, the blonde shows her some mercy and lowers her back down onto the bed. The Mayor looks up at the younger woman tiredly, holding her pleasant, green gaze for a moment silently. Emma eventually drops her eyes to her lap and sighs.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

"... I had a little too much to drink, just as Henry so graciously informed you..."

"Uhuh, I'd sussed that much for myself... But why?"

"Miss Swan, demand for an explanation as to one's drinking habits seems fairly rich coming from yourself."

Emma glances back up at the Mayor, but instead of a snarl, her lips form a weak smile as she notes to herself that Regina's all too familiar prim way of bitching is probably a good sign that the older woman is sobering up slightly.

"You had more than just a _little_ too much to drink, Regina... Now... Either something's happened since I left here this morning... Or_ I_ did something wrong... If I did... If you hadn't wanted me to stay or-"

"-Don't."

"I'm just saying-"

"Miss Swan... Emma... Don't. I made it very clear I wanted you to stay, did I not?"

"Well... yeah... but-"

"- You did nothing wrong, dear. _Nothing_! It's not _you_ that should be fretting, I... I..."

But the brunette's eyes clamp shut as her voice cracks shakily, and for a moment the Sheriff wonders if her stomach has given up storing the copious amount of alcohol bestowed upon it, but then she realizes with greater alarm that the Mayor is on the verge of tears. Leaning down over the darker woman nervously, she tries to adopt a soothing tone as she pats her awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Hey now! Hey! Regina... Come on... Please don't be upset... Just tell me what's wrong!"

"I'm so s-sorry..."

"What? _Why_!?... 'Gina?"

"I... Emma, I tried to hurt you..."

The blonde blinks in surprise before offering the older woman a small nod of her head.

"No shit... I know _that_..."

"...You do?"

"Of _course_ I do... I guess I wasn't always completely blameless either... but... I kind of get it... some of it..."

The Mayor frowns in confusion before realizing that the Sheriff refers to the many weeks spent at each other's throats after her arrival. Shaking her head miserably, she places a hand over her eyes in a subconscious attempt to keep her dignity; aware that neither of them are particularly well equipped with emotion of the salty variety.

"No..."

"Regina it's okay..."

"It's _not_! What I did is _not_ okay!"

"Look, we-"

"- Emma I tried to hurt you! _Really_ tried to hurt you! And it's not... it's not okay!"

"I don't-... You mean the brakes on the cruiser?"

"No! I..."

_Oh God, the fucking brakes... She wouldn't have been hurt, surely... I mean... The car was supposed to crash... And it was Sydney's idea... But-_

"...I know about the brakes, and it _was_ a pretty low move... but-"

"-I don't mean the brakes... I... I t-tried to...Oh god-"

"-I don't want to know..."

Emma's tone is low and steady and the brunette removes her hand cautiously from her eyes to regard the younger woman warily. The softness in the Sheriff's expression unsettles her greatly and she opens her mouth to protest before slender fingers find her hair and stroke it away from her face again and again.

The blonde chews at the inside of her cheek, feeling exceptionally awkward as she runs her fingers through the brunette's hair in such a uncharacteristically caring fashion, but when dark eyes slip closed and some of the anguish disappears from the older woman's brow she decides it's worth it. Regina mutters quietly.

"You... You don't want to know?"

"Nope..."

"Emma..."

"Regina, I'm _happy_, and I get a feeling that if you tell me what you're about to tell me I won't be anymore... There's not a lot of times before that I've been happy... Whatever you did... You said yourself you were sorry..."

"... I am... but my dear, this isn't something that can just be let _go_..."

"It is. You said you tried to hurt me- _really_ hurt me- and I'm fine, which would suggest whatever you had planned to say or... do... you _didn't_. Or you fixed it. If you need me to tell you I forgive you or whatever the fuck will make you feel better, then I do! Whatever it is! Just... It's ok..."

The brunette looks up at the Sheriff with something akin to disbelief, but the younger woman simply shrugs. Regina sighs, knowing that the blonde declaring her forgiveness should mean nothing. Knowing that if Emma only _knew_ what she was forgiving she may feel far less inclined to do so. But there's something about what the Sheriff had said that stops her from crying out to the blonde to stop with her stupidity.

_"I'm happy... There's not a lot of times before that I've been happy."_

And isn't that something which she should understand. _Can _understand.

_Better than most, dear. _

Sighing, the brunette reaches for the Sheriff and rests her hand on the latter's knee. She jerks slightly as Emma places the chilled flannel across her forehead but keeps her hand in place. Glancing up at the blonde with a sense of miserable half-closure she regards her appreciatively.

"You should get yourself home, dear, it's getting late..."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"...But... What about Henry?"

"I'll cross that bridge tomorrow, I don't think it's all too crazy that I'd stay to make sure you were ok... after all... that's exactly what I'm doing."

"I'll be fine..."

"Yup, you _probably_ will..."

"Emma, you don't have to hang around just because I did something stupid..."

"Actually I do, sorry!"

The blonde smiles and swings her legs up onto the bed so that she rests next to the Mayor comfortably.

"I'm not having it on my consciousness if your drunk ass goes rolling onto her back in the night and drowns in her own vomit- rock star death; not your style."

"Miss Swan! I would _not_!"

"You might! Sorry Madame Mayor, but arrogance and class do not exempt you from such dangers."

Emma sighs as she teases, fully aware at Regina's displeasure at her insinuations, but pleased to have roused this more familiar side to the Mayor. She shimmies down the bed so that she lies flush beside the brunette and the darker woman rolls over tipsily to brush at her lips. The blonde moves away with a grin.

"Oh no you don't, you need to get some sleep, doctor's orders!"

"Miss Swan, I have a suspicion that you would be hard put to place a _bandaid _on the right way round..."

The Sheriff ignores the Mayor's muttering as the brunette's eyes begin to close for progressively longer periods of time. She begins to think the older woman has fallen asleep when Regina lets out a low sob. Moving up onto her elbow, Emma regards her worriedly, watching as a delicate droplet seeps from the corner of sooty lashes. Lying back down, she pulls the brunette to her firmly, moving so that she lies on her side, holding the Mayor as the latter nestles against her.

"Whatever it is... It's ok. If you want to tell me, you can... but not tonight. Not when you're drunk... Understand?"

"...But you're happy..."

"I am... And you're _sorry._.. Please just try get some rest."

"...Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Regina wraps her arms tightly around the blonde's waist- vaguely aware of the fact that Emma still wears her jacket- and buries her face into the comfort of the Sheriff's chest, unmindful of the salted tears that dampen golden curls as her breathing becomes more regular and shallow as sleep engulfs her blissfully.

* * *

The old pawnbroker raises an eyebrow in curiosity as he makes his way slowly back from his business in the woods. Passing the Mayor's mansion, he spies something which stops him in his tracks and creeps a little closer to the grand gate to investigate.

"What might you be doing here at this hour, Dearie?"

Of course the object of his curiosity offers him no response, but his mind is already racing as he thinks back to his conversation with the Mayor in her office. Turning gracefully round, he proceeds silently down the path, stopping only once to peer back at the small, yellow bug parked outside the Mayor's house.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N:** _Yet another awkward morning after. As always, hope you enjoy and please review!_

* * *

The blonde wakes up with a groan as pins and needles shoot painfully up her arm. Opening an eye to the semi-darkness, she is accosted with a mass of chocolate tresses that look almost black in the purple haze of dawn. The Mayor appears to be sleeping peacefully, and Emma allows herself a small grin as she realizes the older woman's hand has come to rest firmly on her ass whilst sleeping. Rolling over slowly, she carefully pulls her arm out from under Regina with a wince and sits up to survey her surroundings.

A small, silver clock on the nightstand informs her that it's quarter to six and she muses momentarily on the fact that the darker woman seems to be having a peculiar affect on her recently; early mornings not a usual occurrence.

_And I'd like to keep it that way!_

The reason for her early rousing becomes clear when she looks back down at the brunette whose brow has furrowed slightly at the loss of the Sheriff's body flush with her own. Emma wears her jeans and jacket from the previous evening, but still she shivers a little with cold. The Mayor, however, wears only a cream blouse, and her exposed forearms are dappled in gooseflesh. Pulling her jacket tighter around herself and pulling up the zipper, the Sheriff gently struggles to free the heavy silken throw from beneath the brunette. Finally successful, she pulls it over the sleeping woman swiftly, resisting the urge to chuckle as Regina nuzzles deeper into the plush blanket; her expression comically serene.

Pulling her fingers roughly through her knotted hair, the blonde creeps quietly towards the door before looking back. Frowning a little as she surprises herself with the gesture, she turns back and pads over to the ornate writing bureau that stands between the window and the door to the bathroom in search of some paper and a pen. The majority of the stationary that litters the roll-top's surface seems to be for show- comprised of heavy parchment and _quills_ of all things- but eventually she manages to find a ballpoint pen and a scrap of wide-ruled paper. Scribbling quickly- doing her best to make her messy scrawl legible- she stabs at the paper with a final point before tiptoeing over to the Mayor's nightstand and leaving the small note by her side, along with a couple of small items from her pocket.

* * *

Henry stirs as he recognizes the familiar sound of the weak floorboard by his mother's room creaking. He blinks in confusion, shivering as he becomes aware of a peculiar chill, before looking down to realize that he lies on top of his covers in his shirt and jeans. The wretched festivities of the night before come crashing back on him and he nibbles at his lip as he pushes himself quietly from his bed and creeps over to the door, wondering what his mother is up to now.

"Emma?"

The Sheriff freezes as she stands at the top of the stairs, Henry's voice an exaggerated whisper through the cloying silence of the house. Turning to look at him, she tries to compose herself with an expression befitting the moment.

Unfortunately, she has no idea what this is.

"Henry..."

Her tone is oddly cautious, and they are by now both aware of the awkwardness left over between the two of them as a result of the previous night. The blonde falters visibly as she tries to decide just what in the hell to do or say, and it is the boy, in the end, who breaks the uneasiness that rests between them.

With a theatrically sly glance at his mother's bedroom door, the brunet beckons the Sheriff to come over to his room with exaggerated gestures of his small hand. Breaking into a crooked grin, the blonde hurries over as Henry steps aside to let her slip past before closing the door.

"What are you still doing here?"

He takes her hand with all the simplistic grace of his ten years and leads her to his bed where he springs swiftly beneath the covers. Emma perches on the edge of the small double, but pulls herself up to sit cross-legged in the middle of the mattress with a little coaxing from the brunet. Sighing, she studies him briefly before lowering her eyes to her jean-clad knees.

"Uh, I stayed to make sure your mom was ok..."

"Because she got drunk?"

"...Yes, Henry, because she got drunk... Sometimes, if you drink too much you can get sick and it can get dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Uhuh... Henry, your mom... She was upset about something, I don't know what, but it must have been pretty bad... I mean... _You _only cry and act up if you're_ really_ upset about something, right? Your mom's no different..."

"She didn't look upset, she looked _angry_... She yelled at Sydney, and then... just..."

Henry frowns in frustration as he searches for the right words to explain his thoughts. He is confused by the blonde's sudden willingness to help the brunette and her calm understanding at his mother's terrifying rage. He wants to tell her that he, personally, finds her peculiar trust and acceptance to be foolish, but his memory serves him with the image of the Sheriff's anger as she had yelled at him- actually _yelled_ at him- last night and he remains silent. As if sensing the small boy's tension, Emma looks up to smile at him shyly as she fidgets with a loose thread on her jeans.

"I'm sure she _was_ angry... But not at _you_, Henry... And I wasn't angry at you either... I shouldn't have snapped at you, kid, and I'm sorry... I was just... You can't _say_ things like that to your mom... No matter what... She loves you... Hell, it's _because _she loves you that she gets upset when you and I hang out... She sees us getting on as well as we do and maybe that _does_ make her angry, but only because she loves you, kid... You do understand that, right?"

"... I guess."

"And whatever she was sad or angry or upset about, she... well she shouldn't have dealt with it the way she did...But she didn't react that way because she's 'evil' or 'bad'... She... She's human..."

"... I was scared..."

"... That's ok... I was a little scared too..."

"_You_?!"

"Yup... Terrified come to mention it..."

"Of my mom?"

"No... For your mom... I was worried about her."

"...Why?"

"Well, because of the bad way she was in..."

"Oh."

Henry cocks his head to the side as though contemplating this for the first time, which, in a way, he is. He regards the blonde thoughtfully as the latter lets her eyes wander around his room, coming to the absurd realization that she has never actually been in her son's bedroom before. Crawling forwards, he kneels awkwardly and puts his arms hesitantly around the Sheriff's neck, tightening his hold when she wraps her own arms around his waist. Mumbling into her shoulder he reflects on the bizarre way the blonde carries a hint of his mother's scent absently.

"It's just not fair, though?"

"What isn't?"

"You're nice to my mom, but she's always _mean_ to you..."

"... That's not true..."

"Yes it is! You-"

"-Wanna know something, kid. When that storm hit and it got really bad, I was out on patrol. _That_ was dangerous too. Your mom let me stay with her inside until the storm passed... So that I wouldn't get hurt."

"...Really?"

"Yes. Really."

Emma leans back to regard the small boy and offers him a stern smile.

"The thing about real life, kid, is that things tend to be a hell of a lot more complicated than 'good' and 'evil'... I want you to promise me something, okay?"

"...Okay?"

"When your mom gets up later... Just... You know...Remember that. Don't talk to her like you did last night. Promise?"

"...Promise."

Henry's expression says that he finds the notion to be incredibly obscure, but he nods slowly at the blonde regardless.

In a way, his age plays both a blessing and a curse. He is perhaps not quite mature enough to understand what the Sheriff has tried to say- and she is perhaps not quite comfortable enough to guide him eloquently- but he is also ten, and he will agree with Emma's slightly disjointed and vague explanation on the ways of adult life without any further question.

Nor does it occur to him to ask the blonde where she had slept.

If he had, he would have simply smirked at the thought of his mother partaking in a childish slumber party.

"Right, kid, I'd better get going. Come by the station later if you like and we'll break for hot chocolate... And remember-"

"-be nice to my mom... I know."

Emma nods, jumping up from the bed and offering the boy a much broader, more comfortable grin, before creeping quietly from his room and making her way silently downstairs.

* * *

"_God.._."

The Mayor awakens with a groan as her mind pulses nauseatingly within her skull. She fears she can feel her heartbeat in her eyelids and places a hand over them hatefully. She is vaguely aware that something isn't quite right- momentarily sure something seems to be missing- before her hazy memory swims with the recollection that she had fallen asleep in the company of the Sheriff. Cracking open an eye painfully, she deduces herself to be alone.

"Thank god."

But her stomach twists uneasily and she knows better than to blame it entirely on the alcohol. She is almost entirely certain that she recalls most of what happened the previous night- groggily but coherently- but Emma's absence has her inwardly wondering if perhaps she's forgotten something ill-said or ill-meant. Rolling onto her side to deduce the time, she notes a small scrap of paper riddled with spiky black scrawl.

_Madame Mayor._

_Suggest you stick to wine- makes sleepovers much more fun._

_PRESENT!_

_E._

Dark eyes flickering back to the table, Regina smirks in spite of the nausea slowly settling upon her as she spies two, small paracetamol tablets beside her glass of water. Swallowing them gingerly, she lies back and closes her eyes, Emma's note still held between her fingers.


	44. Chapter 44 (real)

**A/N:** _Sorry for the duplicate, guys! I have no idea what's happening at the moment, my account is having some serious trouble uploading with the last few things I've posted. Thanks for you patience, I'll see if I can reward you with a little extra SQ goodness as a thank you!_

**A/N: **_As with my latest '**All Magic**' chapter, I apologise for the current lack of swan __queen sexy goodness. However, I kind of felt this acted as a nice mirroring chapter to previous one with Emma and Henry, and so wanted to include it as its own piece, rather than just have the characters refer to it in passing. There's a LOT that needs to be said between these two, so I hope I did an ok job at exploring it a little bit. Enjoy!_

* * *

Green eyes flicker up hesitantly as the brunette takes a seat at the dining room table, a strong black coffee cupped within her slender hands. Henry looks back down to his Cheerio's awkwardly, chasing the little O's around the bowl with his spoon. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his mother open and close her mouth a few times as though trying to find the right thing to say. Eventually the Mayor's eyes drop to her coffee and she lets out a defeated sigh.

Henry is astonished to find that the brunette looks almost sad, and his first thought is unkind; sure that Regina is simply manipulating him into feeling guilty for last night's outburst.

_"The thing about real life, kid, is that things tend to be a hell of a lot more complicated than 'good' and 'evil'..."_

Emma's surprising statement... And he supposes that he _does_ in fact feel a little guilty, regardless of the Mayor's possible motives. He has spent so much of his time engrossing himself in the undeniable, unquestionable- hell- _documented_ fact that the woman sitting opposite him is pure evil, that he has perhaps lost sight of the person beneath. He is still skeptical at Emma's sudden blasé trust towards her supposed enemy, but the blonde's hushed voice as she had sat with him on his bed and demanded he realize his mother's evident love for him haunts him in a way that is almost pleasant.

Looking back up at the brunette, he speaks in the low, polite tone the Mayor had believed lost towards her since long before the Sheriff's arrival.

"How do you feel?"

Regina glances up, startled, regarding the young boy with pink tinged eyes. Faltering momentarily beneath her glittering dark coals, Henry simply does what comes naturally and offers her a smile; small at first, but then wide and genuine. The brunette stares down at her coffee hastily, swallowing as she feels tears prickling absurdly beneath her lashes. Running a slender finger thoughtfully across the mug's handle she reciprocates with a small smile of her own.

"I have felt worse, but I could also feel better..."

"Would you like some water?"

"That... would be lovely."

She watches as the small boy slides from his chair and pads over to the kitchen, his jeans looking suspiciously crumpled and drowning in the gray hoodie bestowed upon him by the blonde. She glimpses the small rip in the sweater's sleeve- a remnant of his rather chaotic adventures with the Sheriff in the woods- and muses with a sigh on just how much he reminds her of Emma with his hair mussed and his clothes falling about his body haphazardly.

Henry returns to the table with a tall glass of water. She had heard the tap running, despite her preference for bottled water, but she doesn't mention this. She simply takes a delicate sip before regarding Henry with tentative sorrow.

"Henry... What happened last night... I should never have-"

"-It's okay."

The small brunet shrugs as he looks up at her, his expression so childishly casual as he goes on to explain his discussion with the blonde. He reasons that his mother must be aware that Emma had stayed over and so referring to the fact is unlikely to get the Sheriff in trouble, but he offers the Mayor an abridged version none the less, and in_ this_ version he had come across the blonde downstairs while getting himself a glass of water.

"Emma said you were drinking because you were sad..."

"Trust Miss Swan to tell a child that liquor is the way to solve their sorrows..."

Henry ignores her statement, her rich tone absent from it's usual scorn when speaking of the Sheriff. If he didn't know any better, he would even go so far as to say he'd detected a hint of amusement as the words fall from full lips. Of course he _does _know better than to believe something like _that_.

"_Are_ you sad?"

"Oh, Henry, of course not..."

"Because if you are... You can say..."

"...I was upset last night, sweetheart... I did something I wished I hadn't and thinking about it made me very upset because I regret the thing I did very much... I should never have dealt with it that way- alcohol solves nothing, you best remember that, Henry- and I should never have allowed myself to talk and act the way I did to Mr Glass, _especially_ with you in the house... I'm sorry."

"It's ok... I guess I was kind of a jerk too..."

Brown eyes sparkle with a mixture of irritation at yet another adverse term added to her son's repertoire, and amusement. Reaching for her son's hand across the table, she squeezes it lightly, her heart breaking a little at his ill-concealed flinch before he relaxes his fingers in hers.

"You were right to be angry, Henry."

"I... I wasn't _very _angry. Emma said I shouldn't have talked to you like I did... And I'm sorry I called you evil."

The breath catches in the brunette's throat at the magnitude of that small statement. Her son's constant witch hunt at the mercy of that wretched book having her heard the word muttered and whispered so many times, and yet the pain of the word coming from _him_ never dulling with the hateful repetition. Clearing her throat, she carries on lightly, once more diverting her attention carefully down to her coffee.

"Miss Swan said that?"

"Yes... She... she told me... Why didn't _you_ tell me you helped Emma in the storm?"

"... Hmmm?"

"She told me how you helped her by letting her stay here so that she wouldn't get hurt... why didn't you tell me?"

"...I suppose I didn't think it was a matter of concern."

"You helped Emma... You made sure she wouldn't get hurt... That's not something the Evil Queen would do..."

Regina bites her lip, blinking furiously as she feels her lashes laced instantly with moisture. Gazing up at the boy cautiously, she carries on in a voice not quite steady.

"Things are never as simple as 'good' and 'evil', Henry... Not even in your fairy tales... But that means more to me than you know that you think that way..."

Henry blushes, shrugging sheepishly before offering a tentative grin which the brunette repays in kind. Slipping from the table, he turns to collect his empty bowl and spoon before padding softly out into the kitchen. His mother's voice has him returning to stand in the doorway once he has placed the items in the dishwasher.

"Come here."

He sidles up to her curiously, his eyes wide when she pulls him onto her lap in a way which he hasn't allowed her to do in years, her strong arms wrapping warmly around him. Twisting a little, her settles his own arms around her neck and closes his eyes as slim fingers play out gentle patterns on his back. Kissing him gently at the crown of his dark locks, she pulls back, studying him genially.

"Did you sleep in your clothes?"

The small boy stiffens in her embrace nervously, but the brunette merely brushes his hair away from his face as she murmurs quietly.

"It's ok, you weren't alone."

Henry gapes at her comically and she sighs irritably, letting him slide gently from her lap. Fussing with the rip in his sleeve with a sniff of disapprovement her tone is brisk and businesslike when she speaks.

"Look at the state of you. Go on, upstairs and in the shower, Mister, I want you on time for school, no excuses."

He nods quickly, hurrying off up the stairs.

But not before he glimpses the brunette smile at him warmly as she sips at her cooling coffee.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N: **_Apologies again for the double posting confusion on the previous chapter. The actual chapter is now up. As for this one... Oh, the awkwardness! (And I apologise for yet more filler). Fear not, the next chapter will be absolutely brimming with Swan Queen._

* * *

"Sheriff..."

The blonde abruptly stops making faces at Ruby who smirks at her as she works the counter at Granny's, and looks up sharply to regard the old pawn broker. Gold offers her a small smile, his dark eyes glittering with cruel amusement at catching the Sheriff's childish behavior. Emma tosses back her long curls irritably and waits for the man to elaborate on his greeting or leave her the hell alone.

"What do you want, Gold?"

"Want? Who said anything about _wanting_? I merely saw you sitting here all by yourself and decided to come say hello."

"Sure you did."

"Well, I'm sorry to find you in such a miserable mood... Are you feeling alright, dearie? You look rather ill rested... Trouble sleeping, Miss Swan?"

"No."

"Must just be the lighting in here then."

"Must be."

"...Actually, now that I have a moment with you, I'd like to ask if you've had a chance to look over those papers I gave you?"

"I filed them. I'm sure you'll hear from your insurance company soon enough in order to receive money you're probably not_ actually_ entitled to."

"Miss Swan!"

The little man places a hand over his heart as he cries this last remark theatrically, his face a horrific interpretation of anguish. Dropping the act and sliding silkily into the seat opposite the rather disgruntled Sheriff, Gold folds his hands neatly on the table and regards her intently.

"Not_ those_ papers, Sheriff..."

"Well, those are the only papers about which I am prepared to speak to you."

"Oh?... Now that _is_ curious..."

"I never _asked_ you for those goddamn papers, and you have no business asking me about them now!"

"No, that is true, you never asked... You sure as hell implied your wish for help, however... I wonder why you should suddenly be so adverse to receiving it..."

"...Simple. I don't trust you."

The blonde growls coldly, but Gold doesn't believe her reasoning for a second. Green eyes narrow dangerously and he imagines most would be fooled by her stony pokerface, but he doesn't miss the wary cast of her mouth or the tick at her jaw.

"Trust has nothing to do with it. Those were legitimate legal papers, I was merely playing the messenger... Surely you aren't about to let your pride stand in the way of retrieving your boy from the clutches of that awful woman... You'd let your qualms with me dominate over stopping your son from being mistreated?"

Gold chooses his words carefully, and knows instantly they have hit their mark when the Sheriff all but snarls back at him.

"She doesn't mistreat him."

No sooner are the words out of the blonde's mouth when her brow furrows, seeming suddenly to think upon her oddly adamant statement.

_Curious._

"Look, Gold, it doesn't matter what you think, because it has fuck all to do with you. If I wanted to go up against Regina, then I would do so _my_ way. There's no chance in_ hell_ I'd come to you."

_Wanted. Past tense. Very curious._

Gold studies Emma shrewdly, his mind racing as he thinks back on the conversation which had taken place in the Mayor's office regarding the very same papers of which they speak. Regina's rage. Her sudden shock upon finding out that the blonde had had nothing to do with the damning documents found while snooping.

_Not to mention_ how_ Regina had come across the papers when they had been at the Sheriff's apartment in the first place..._

Raising and eyebrow and preparing to continue his vague questioning to get to the heart of the matter, the pawn broker frowns as Ruby trots over and hands the Sheriff a coffee which Gold doubts she'd even ordered; what with the cooling dregs still sitting in the cup she'd originally been nursing. The young waitress leans forward, blocking the pawn broker's view of her face with her hair, but he imagines she is inquiring of the blonde if everything is ok. A ridiculous notion in itself. He imagines the contrary young woman before him will be on her deathbed before reaching out and pleading for help. Smirking, he waits as the young brunette to pull back- ignoring the icy glare she throws him, her dark eyes tinged with ill concealed fear- and struts back to the counter with a flounce of her short skirt.

"Everything ok, Sheriff? Miss Lucas seemed a tad concerned?"

"Fine. She just doesn't like you."

"Oh, come now, Emma, at least_ pretend_ to possess a little compassion! I have done nothing wrong in the case of Miss Lucas. In the case of any of people _in_ here in fact!"

"And yet, nobody trusts you..."

"My cross to bear I fear... You, however... Why are _you_ so closed off all of a sudden? I have grown to look forward to your particular breed of hotheaded spunkiness and now suddenly I am being treated with all ice and no fire. I almost feel as though I was Regina..."

"Will you quit bringing the goddamn Mayor into this?"

"Touchy subject?"

"No... Just not one I wish to discuss with you."

"I see."

Gold nods thoughtfully, continuing to study the Sheriff as she stares moodily down into her coffee. He had hoped Emma would help him sate his curiosity, but she has only served to make it grow. The fact that the blonde hadn't reacted to the papers with anger that the Mayor had found out leads him to believe that Regina has yet to inform the younger woman of her discovery. This in itself seems entirely out of character on the brunette's behalf.

_No. Not if Regina's way of dealing with such treachery was to act on the matter rather than argue about it. And hadn't our fine Mayor looked decidedly distressed upon learning of Miss Swan's innocence... A mere confrontation would hardly garner such shocked remorse... I wonder, dearie, what did the sly Queen have in store for you... and why do you seem none the wiser... _

"Well, Miss Swan, I can see you have little interest in discussing the matter any further. A word of warning, though: You say that I am not to be trusted, but I assure you that I am by _far_ a better ally than the Mayor may pretend to be. Do not forget what she wants, Sheriff, which is her son to herself. Your disappearance would surely please her a great deal and you would do well not to mistake any sudden interest in yourself for kindness. I sincerely hope you are simply keeping your friends close and your enemies closer...Particularly as you have allowed her to coerce you into such late night visits..."

The color drains from the blonde's face instantly, and she glances up at Gold with wide eyes.

"...What?"

"Oh, don't fret, dearie, your business is your own..."

He smiles. He hadn't in fact jumped to any sordid conclusion until seeing the expression that currently graces the Sheriff's pale features. The fact that Emma's car had been parked at the Mayor's so late at night had been odd, most definitely, but the idea of Regina taking her games to the point of interacting with the younger woman on a carnal level had seemed too ludicrous to pay thought. Now, though... He supposes such things would make sense, and would be hard put to deny an odd sort of appeal to the woman sitting nervously before him, but he finds Regina's methods surprising to say the least.

_Not quite so surprising as the look on her face when realizing the blonde's innocence._

_ And again, back to that. _

_The way she reacted would suggest some form of punishment was already in motion. The panic in her voice... well... If I didn't know any better, I'd say the brunette had been _concerned_ for Emma._

_But surely the Mayor spares the blonde no real feelings..._

_Curiouser and curiouser._

Standing, and pulling his coat into place, Gold grins at Emma who sits looking as though she may well pass out where she sits. He leans down a little closer to her, eyes glittering as she flinches away from him with a scowl.

"Well this is certainly a turn for the books..."

She offers him no response and he hadn't really expected her to. Straightening back up and heading for the door, he glances over his shoulder and remarks lightly.

"You can count your secret safe with me, Sheriff..."

"...Can I."

Low. Untrusting. Angry.

_Clever girl._

"Oh, at a price, dearie, at a price."

And then the queer little man is gone and Ruby is trotting over with a concerned frown as a mug of luke warm coffee shatters loudly on the floor.


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N: **_I didn't want to subtitle the break in the chapter as 'earlier' as it kind of takes place at the same time as the first part of the first half. Hopefully that makes sense when you get to it! Let me know what you think, and enjoy :D_

* * *

The brunette glares at the couple that hurry past her, inwardly damning their rudeness as they veer to the far side of the pavement so as to avoid her. She bares no concern to the fact that they feel the need to do so, but she dislikes the way untrusting eyes roam over her with distaste. Sighing, she lets such nuisances go and continues up the ice-ridden path towards the Station. She carries twin paper cups in her hands- an order which the ditzy little waitress had found most perplexing- and as she nears the turning towards the Station she sips delicately from the coffee held to her right.

She feels much better than she did this morning, free from the liquor that had seemed to course nauseatingly through her system until lunchtime. Henry's actions over breakfast have left her in a peculiar mood; elated and oddly humbled. She had been surprised to find out that the blonde had taken it upon herself to have a conversation with the boy, and feels a little guilty that her initial reaction- her primal reaction- had been a terrible sense of instant anger. Still, she reassures herself that such a response is to be expected after their turbulent past few months, and the fury at her son's admission had quickly dissipated into curiosity.

In truth, what she has managed to piece together of the Sheriff's actions the previous night have left her feeling rather touched.

She doesn't feel a sense of nervousness seeking out the younger woman after the events of last night as she is simply not one to react in such a way. She imagines, if anything, Emma will be the one to harbor a small amount of awkwardness, but then this is again a mere aspect of the Sheriff's character.

At the back of her mind, she allows for the fact that this all feels a little surreal; she has visited the blonde often enough, but stopping by for a companionable drink is most definitely a first. She reasons that work at the office is currently slow- negating to attribute this fact to the way the town's Mayor and Sheriff are currently not working to screw each other over- and suspects the ongoings at the Station are much the same. Storybrooke is on the whole a quiet little town, and as much as it may pain her to admit it, Emma does a fairly decent job of keeping on top of things her end.

Turning the corner onto the path that leads to the Station, she spots the younger woman instantly and adopts a small smile despite herself. The Sheriff sits on a weathered bench outside the Station with her legs crossed up on its surface, her leather jacket appearing strangely taught due to the thick hoodie she wears beneath. For a brief moment, Regina is under the impression that she sits outside smoking, but further scrutiny allows her to deduce the wisps of fog emanating from the younger woman to simply be misted breath due to the cold. Emma appears to be staring at nothing in particular down to her left, a half eaten cookie held forgotten in her hand.

Angrily berating herself for the peculiar surge of emotion this simple vision brings, the Mayor shakes her head a little, as though trying to corral her thoughts back into place. She saunters over to the blonde's bench gracefully, smiling when the younger woman glances up as her shadow crosses the frosted ground; long and wasted in the winter sun.

"Good day, Miss Swan."

"Hi..."

Green eyes glitter up at her curiously and the brunette takes a seat primly on the gnarled bench beside the Sheriff, her suit clad leg resting gently against the blonde's knee but neither woman seems to pay this any mind. Handing Emma the untouched cup she holds, the Mayor rolls her eyes with hidden amusement as the younger woman sniffs the proffered beverage curiously.

"I assure you it isn't going to kill you."

_Oh, what a choice of words._

Grinning sheepishly, the blonde takes a sip of the cream laden hot chocolate, licking her lips appreciatively as her eyes sparkle with good humor.

"Always better to be cautious."

"Yes... I imagine you're right, dear."

"...How are you feeling?"

"Better than I deserve to feel I suppose. I felt a little delicate this morning, but the paracetemol you left me must have been of extra strength; it took care of my headache wonderfully... Thank you."

"Ah, it wasn't paracetemol..."

Blushing slightly, Emma leans to the side so as to access her back pocket- consequently pressing her shoulder against the brunette as her long hair tumbles lightly into the Mayor's lap for a moment- and pulls out a small crumpled packet with a faded sticker bearing her name.

"Percocet?"

Regina raises an eyebrow as she takes the packet from the blonde for inspection. Emma clears her throat, playing with her hair nervously.

"It was all I had... I wasn't even sure they'd still work. I got prescribed a course of them about three months before I came here for an injury I got while I was working, but never took them... I didn't think they'd do any _harm_ if you just took them once..."

"So you tried to drug me..."

The blonde hastily shakes her head but the Mayor passes her back the packet with a smirk, her tone purely teasing.

"It's a bit of an odd thing to walk around with in your pocket, don't you think?

"They were in my jacket, must have been in there for months, but I never thought to take them out... When I took you upstairs last night I noticed them when I took my keys out my pocket... I figured it was worth a shot..."

"Worth a shot to allow me to unwittingly ingest high grade pain-killers..."

"... Well, they clearly worked, you said you were feeling better!"

Emma grumbles hotly, the flush at her cheeks suggesting she feels a little ashamed of what she now realizes was a rather risky course of action. Smiling at the younger woman kindly, the brunette shrugs and rests her hand on her jean clad knee.

"Indeed I am... And I want to thank you for last night... I assume Henry called you?"

"He did... Please don't be mad at him, he was just worried about you... I know he said he-"

"-It's ok... We had a little talk this morning actually..."

"You did?"

Dark eyes flicker sideways to study the blonde as Emma keeps her tone purposefully casual.

"I did... And I suppose I should be thanking you for that as well."

"...Henry told you?"

"That you suggested he mind his manners a little more around me?... Something like that... I'm... I'm grateful that you feel that way, Miss Swan."

"_Emma._"

"Sheriff."

Regina chuckles huskily as the younger woman groans and shakes her head in burlesque display of despair, watching in amusement as Emma tosses the remains of her unwanted cookie expertly into the trashcan to their right.

"Impressive."

"Well... You know..."

The blonde straightens her jacket with a theatrical show of nonchalance before breaking into a sly grin; tip of her tongue poking through neat white teeth. Rolling her eyes, the Mayor crosses her legs primly one over the other- this new position subsequently pressing her leg and shoulder lightly against the Sheriff's own- and sips thoughtfully at her coffee while Emma does the same.

"Aren't you cold sitting out here?"

"A little... I needed to think though, and sometimes the fresh air helps."

"Yes, I imagine you need all the help you can get, dear."

A soft nudge in the ribs.

Scarlet painted smile in return.

"What were you thinking about?"

"... Mr Gold."

"... Oh...Something I should know about?"

The Mayor's tone is silky- playful- but she is only just able to mask the scowl that threatens to settle over her refined features.

"I don't know."

"...What do you mean you don't know?"

And just like that the pleasant mirth lacing the darker woman's sultry tone is gone as she turns to face the Sheriff with a frown.

"He came up to me in the diner earlier to talk to me."

"Oh?"

The brunette's frown lingers, but it evolves into an expression of wary concern rather than simple possessiveness.

"...He saw my car outside your place last night."

"... I see. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing, just that it was none of his business."

"...Everything in this town is Gold's business, or so he seems determined to make it..."

Emma sighs, regarding the older woman apologetically. Regina's frown deepens as she can't quite find it within herself to berate the blonde for her carelessness. She imagines that doing so will make herself feel much better, but she finds she has no wish to place blame on the Sheriff.

_Well that's new..._

Running a finger thoughtfully over the seam of the blonde's jeans, the Mayor carries on in a contemplative tone.

"The man is a snake, dear... I suggest you simply strive to avoid him. He will most certainly endeavor to make you think he holds you at his mercy, but if you told him nothing then nothing is all that he knows. Let what he imagines to be the case remain a simple inkling... And whose to say he doesn't simply suspect the truth? That the Sheriff was responding to a distress call?"

"... I guess..."

"Just be more careful next time."

"I'm sorry."

"... There's nothing to be sorry for. Just a word of warning, Miss Swan."

"Oh, I'll take it to heart, believe me!"

Smiling in amusement at the hard venom in the Sheriff's voice, Regina swallows the last of her coffee and rises from the bench, stiff with cold. She is warily perplexed at the sense of gloom she feels at the imminent loss of the younger woman's company, and forces herself to smile so as not give such peculiar emotions away.

"Well, dear, I'm afraid pneumonia is not high on my list of desires, so I think I will retire someplace warmer... Take care of yourself... Emma."

The blonde smiles pleasantly, thanking the Mayor for her hot chocolate and stretching to move inside herself. Watching the brunette's retreating form as the darker woman struts authoritatively back down the path to the main road, she gives in to sudden impulse and yells after her.

"Regina!"

"Miss Swan?"

Emma jogs over effortlessly, stopping to stand before the older woman who regards her with a cocked eyebrow.

"Have you, uh... Have you spoken to Sydney?"

"... No."

Regina's tone is laced with cold as her lips pull back in distaste.

"You probably should..."

"Sheriff, as much as I appreciate your kindness last night, I believe my interactions with Mr Glass are hardly any of your concern..."

"Oh, I couldn't give a shit about your relationship with Sydney... Just... uh... Whether or not you'd have anyone who could babysit Henry..."

Eyebrows in danger of disappearing into her hairline, the Mayor offers the blonde a smirk as she cocks her head to one side and runs a slender finger thoughtfully over her bottom lip.

"Why the curiosity?"

"Well... Mary Margaret sent me a text earlier to let me know she was going to be staying with a friend tonight..."

Emma hesitates as the brunette's eyes flash darkly, wondering if Regina is thinking the same thing that she is; that her housemate is in actual fact most likely visiting Granny's with David.

"... Anyway, I kind of have the place to myself... If you wanted to stop by for a bit... Well, that'd be ok..."

Eyeing the blonde humorously, the Mayor breaks into a salacious grin as green eyes hold her gaze cooly despite the younger woman's ever awkward way with words.

"I'm sure I can sort something out."

"Ok... Cool."

"Cool."

Regina mimics the Sheriff with a smirk, raising her hand in farewell and turning to leave before the blonde sees the smile creeping across her face.

* * *

The young brunette trots eagerly towards the Sheriff's station. She has been given the rest of the afternoon off, and can think of no better way to spend it than teasing the blonde as the older woman goes about feigning irritation. Badly. She actually has some information she imagines Emma will find interesting. At least, she hopes so, as she wishes to cheer the Sheriff up after what had seemed to be a pretty shitty conversation with Gold earlier, and she suspects her news on Regina will do just that.

She had been surprised to see the Mayor enter the diner in the first place; the darker woman only ever stopping by to discuss matters with an unsuspecting victim spotted inside. She had smiled nervously when Regina had made her way straight to the counter, and had fumbled slightly when the Mayor had made her order. The fact that the darker woman had wanted not one, but_ two_ beverages had been surprising in itself, but the fact that one of those had been a hot chocolate with extra cream had been most perplexing.

Until it had dawned on her that Regina was likely ordering for Henry.

And wasn't that nice? A sure first, but one she imagines Emma will find favorable. She wonders what the Mayor would think if she knew the drink she had ordered her son was the same as that preferred by the Sheriff and grins. She doubts Regina would be impressed.

Reaching the small turning that leads to the path up to the Station, she comes to a halt. Cocking her head curiously, she frowns as she regards the blonde sat on the bench outside the Station beside the Mayor. Noting the cup in Emma's hand, she raises an eyebrow in surprise.

She watches as the Sheriff says something to the brunette, speaking animatedly. The Mayor responds to whatever the blonde is saying with a telling shaking of her shoulders, and Ruby can't quite decide if her disbelief is directed towards the fact that Regina sits companionably beside the Sheriff, or simply at the sincerity of her laughter in response to the blonde's words. Before she can come to any sort of decision, her jaw drops comically as the dark brunette places a hand affectionately on the Sheriff's knee and mutters something which causes the latter to smile.

Shrinking back into the shadows as Emma tosses something effortlessly into the trashcan outside the Station, the waitress shakes her head slowly.

_What in the actual hell... I thought they hated each other... I thought..._

Stumbling slightly as she moves to retreat to someplace less confusing, Ruby strives to make sense of what she has just seen. She is surprised to see Emma behaving quite so amiably towards anyone at all, never mind the absurdity that she should be doing so towards the Mayor... And the fact that Regina had taken it upon herself to buy the blonde a drink. Hell, that she'd even known what to order her...

And then it begins to dawn on her.

The way Emma has remained continually evasive when questioned about who it is she could be going out to see. The way green eyes dart nervously around the room when teased about her mystery companion.

_"I didn't think you did dresses, either, but look who's suddenly all fancy! Seriously, you look like you should be hanging out with the Mayor!... Oh my god!"_

_"What?!"_

Ruby lets out a low gasp as she recalls the way the blonde had seemed to jump as if electrocuted upon misunderstanding her suggestion.

"Oh my god..."

Rubbing her temples distractedly, the waitress makes her way stiffly back to the Diner.

By the time she reaches the door, her traumatized expression has been replaced by a secretive smile, and she slips past Granny into the back with a flourish, shaking her head in bemusement at her friend's peculiar choice in company.

"What on earth are you thinking, Emma..."


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N: **_Holy shit, almost 50 chapters... I'm not entirely sure where this fic is going, as at the moment I tend to just write little snippets as and when I like, so I apologise if this messes a little with the storyline... I will try and think up a next juicy instalment... For now... Have some Swan Queen fun times. Lyrics at the beginning are not mine, they're from Lana Del Rey's 'Off to the Races'. Enjoy!_

* * *

"Likes to watch me in the glass room, bathroom,

Chateau Marmont. Slippin' on my red dress,

puttin' on my make-up. Glass room,

perfume, cognac, lilac, fumes,

Says it feels like heaven_-_

-Fuck..._"_

The Mayor smirks as the blonde's muffled singing tapers off instantly at her loud knock on the door. She had considered waiting until the younger woman had finished the song- both to sate her intrigue and to save the Sheriff from embarrassment- but only briefly.

_After all, where's the fun in that._

Teasing her hair distractedly, the brunette waits as light footsteps hurry towards the door and the shoddily painted wood is pulled briskly open.

"Hey!"

Regina's smirk broadens as she regards the blonde with glittering eyes. Emma stands expectantly in the doorway, hair held back in a messy ponytail and looking pretty in a simple black t-shirt, a large grin plastered to her face.

"Good evening, dear."

The Mayor smiles pleasantly as the younger woman steps back to allow her into the apartment, and she surveys the large, open planned room curiously. She has visited the flat on several occasions- most recently when she had come across the papers left by Gold- but somehow this time feels very different. With the ink black sky pressing up against the windows, the room has been lit with a multitude of small lamps in various locations, creating a dusky yellow glow which illuminates everything in a most flattering manner. An ancient looking stereo sits on the kitchen island and continues to play soft music, and a number of candles flicker pleasingly on the windowsill. Most notable of all, however, is the heat. The winter air outside has been well and truly thwarted as a couple of small blow-heaters work their magic in the corner.

"It would seem you aren't as mad as I first thought, Miss Swan."

"Huh?"

Emma regards her curiously as she takes the heavy coat and under jacket the brunette holds out to her, green eyes flickering over the indigo sleeveless blouse buttoned low on the darker woman's enviable frame.

"Your choice of wardrobe, dear; February is generally not the time for such skimpy attire, but you appear to be running a sauna in here... One would almost assume you were trying to get me naked..."

She expects the Sheriff to roll her eyes or stammer something unintelligible, but Emma surprises her by swinging her fist into the palm of her hand and grinning cattily.

"Damn! Busted..."

"A crude trick, Sheriff."

"Maybe, but it seems to be working!"

"Don't get cocky now, dear."

"Oh come on, a hot woman walks into my apartment and I have her undressing before she's even sat down, you've got to give me _some_ credit."

"A 'hot woman'?"

"Smoking hot."

"_Really_, dear..."

Regina tries hard to hide her amusement, inwardly deciding that she quite likes this rarely seen side to the blonde, surely a result of the younger woman being a little more at ease on her own turf. Shaking her head and taking a seat at the dining table, she watches with a smirk as Emma hurries back into the kitchen and pulls herself up onto the countertop so as to reach the back of the top shelf of one of the cabinets that line the walls. When she swings effortlessly back down, she holds two expensive looking wineglasses, and she blushes slightly as she realizes the action has caused her jeans to ride down a little, a strip of pale flesh marring her otherwise dark ensemble.

"To be honest, there wasn't really a great deal of cunning behind it; the heating's busted and neither of us have gotten round to calling anyone in to fix it. I brought down the heaters from Mary Margaret's closet but I couldn't get them to work without making this weird whining noise, so I kicked them a little-"

"-Of course you did, dear."

"Yeah, well, they _work_... It's just I think I must have broken the temperature dial or whatever the hell you call it because the left one now refuses to blast anything but full heat."

Emma shrugs in a way that suggests 'such is life' and the brunette raises an eyebrow.

"And it hasn't occurred to you to simply turn off the one on the left?"

"They switch off at the mains."

"And this is a problem because...?"

The blonde points to a chaotically overloaded outlet- the amount of wires heading this way and that a little concerning- and the brunette rolls her eyes as she takes in the way the identical leads to the heaters form a haphazard tangle of impressive proportions.

She muses to herself that the image before her sums the younger woman up perhaps better than she ever could verbally.

"You see the problem? So, we'll just have to spend the evening half naked!"

"Promises, promises..."

The Mayor teases as her eyes linger on the tantalizing swatch of bare flesh at the younger woman's hips. Following her gaze, Emma grins sheepishly and pulls down the hem of her top to narrow the gap. The brunette negates to inform her that in doing so a small sliver of her bra has come into view.

"Well, behave nicely and who knows what you'll get..."

"A bold insinuation..."

"Call it whatever you like... Your move."

The blonde quips with a flash of teeth as she turns to fetch a bottle of wine from the fridge. Returning to pour them both a generous glassful, she holds her drink out to the brunette who studies her intently before chinking it with her own beverage.

"To good health?"

"To whatever you like, I just want a drink!"

Emma sips from her glass as the Mayor shakes her head with a husky chuckle. She captures an escaped droplet as it trickles down the stem of her glass and licks it deftly from her finger.

"One second, I just need to take dinner out of the oven."

"You cooked? Well in that case I'm glad I wished for good health!"

"You want to go hungry, Regina?"

The brunette raises her eyebrow challengingly, smirking at the Sheriff's glower. She leans forward in her seat so as to gain a better view of the younger woman as she crouches down by the oven to check on its contents. Poking around in the darkness with a metal skewer, the blonde seems to deem whatever cooks inside to be done and reaches up for the oven glove which rests by the sink.

"Smells good."

Regina doesn't bother to keep the surprise from her voice as she watches the Sheriff place the heavily laden oven tray on a heatproof mat and plate up a selection of various roasted vegetables with quick skill. Emma disappears behind the door to the fridge for a moment, before returning with two packets of goats cheese and some honey. Crumbling the cheese over the root vegetables and drizzling over a fair amount of honey, she proceeds to douse the plates with a small lashing of balsamic vinegar and some cracked black pepper. Padding to the table with the plates, she lays one to rest before the Mayor before taking up her own seat opposite. Regina raises an eyebrow and surveys the food before her with surprise.

"... You can cook?"

"You sound shocked?"

"... I just never imagined you to be adept at something so domestic..."

"... I'm gonna take a guess that you assumed I live off take out, pizza, baked beans and frozen dessert?"

"And Mary Margaret's cooking washed down with a six pack."

The brunette adds silkily, deciding to rise to the bait rather than admit out loud that she appreciates her assumptions had been rather narrow minded. Emma rolls her eyes, spearing a piece of sweet potato onto her fork and regarding it thoughtfully.

"Tell me, Regina, do you also picture me sat in an overstuffed armchair wearing a string-vest and watching porn, or is it just in the kitchen you imagine me in such a complimentary way?"

"... I can't say it's a scenario I've pondered until just now, especially one key part of_ that_ little scene which I'm now having trouble erasing from my mind... I didn't mean any offense, dear, I'm just surprised... This is exceptionally well seasoned...It's good."

She shrugs, taking a sip of her wine as she watches the blonde blush in response to her reaction on the mention of imagining the younger woman watching porn. Eyes glittering when Emma glances up with a mischievous grin, she sits back in her chair and waits for the Sheriff to share what has her suddenly looking quite so deviously amused.

"Actually, I'll let you in on a little secret. There's only seven meals I really know how to cook, so I've just learnt to perfect them in order to impress and deceive... It's worked well for me so far..."

She points to the darker woman's plate which shines with just a few leftover smears of glaze and smirks.

"And what about when you have to cook for someone for the eighth time?"

"Ah, that's why I never stick with anyone for more than seven dates!"

Pink tongue flashing through sharp white teeth as the younger woman laughs huskily. The brunette regards her with interest, sipping delicately at her wine as she watches the blonde swipe her finger through a drizzle of honey to the side of her plate.

"Is that true? You've never been with anyone longer than seven dates?"

"Actually... Yes... but it has little to do with my cooking."

"I see..."

"...What about you?"

"What about me, dear?"

Regina inquires tetchily, causing the Sheriff to roll her eyes as yet again all questions seem to have somehow been diverted towards her alone.

"You must have had lovers in the past?... Not counting Graham..."

"Miss Swan..."

Low. Irritable. Warning.

"It's just a question, Regina..."

"... Yes, I have had relationships in the past. Only one of note, however."

"Oh? Who was that?"

"Why don't we discuss that after _you _tell _me_ the story of Henry's father..."

"... Don't."

The blonde sighs irritably and gets up to clear the table. The Mayor watches her silently, acutely aware of the sudden tension that fills the room. She supposes she should apologize, fully aware by her tone that Emma's question had been nothing more than polite curiosity, but she doesn't want to say anything more on the matter. To her relief, the Sheriff seems to be thinking the same thing, as she promptly returns from the kitchenette with a large bowl of what looks to be- at first glance- nothing more than cream.

"Eton mess; numero dos of my repertoire... well, the meringue pieces are anyway."

"Good god, I can practically feel my arteries clogging."

The blonde chuckles, and moves to serve up the desert into two smaller bowls. Acting with uncharacteristic childishness, the darker woman lunges forward as the Sheriff leaves to deposit the serving bowl in the sink, and plucks the younger woman's desert slyly from her place at the table. Returning to her seat, Emma frowns, before glancing up at the brunette and noting both the Mayor's smirk and the fact that she now has two bowls in front of her.

"Hey!"

"Something wrong?"

"Give it back!"

Dark eyes shining with mirth as she watches the Sheriff lean forwards across the table, Regina swipes her finger daintily through the heavy cream and holds it up before her with a feigned expression of confusion.

"Oh... Did you want some?"

Smirking, the brunette extends her sweetened finger out to the Sheriff. For a brief moment, she wonders if Emma will refuse to play along- the blonde's expression wary as she regards the glistening offering the Mayor provides her- but then the younger woman leans forwards and runs her pointed tongue deftly through the cream held out to her.

"Delicious."

The brunette mutters as her eyes find the Sheriff's and she wills the younger woman to lean further still, moving a little herself so that she closes the gap between them and tastes the sweetness of the cream on the blonde's lips for herself.

Peeking beneath sooty lashes as she deepens their kiss, the Mayor slyly scoops a handful of her desert messily into her palm before smearing it purposefully against the Sheriff's exposed neck and clavicles. Her eyes glitter superiorly as Emma jerks back with a cry.

"What the hell?!"

The blonde glares at her incredulously and the darker woman chuckles sultrily, pushing herself up easily from her seat and stalking quickly round to stand before the Sheriff. Emma regards her with curiously before reaching up and pulling the Mayor firmly onto her lap. Smirking, the brunette moves so that she straddles narrow hips and searches lust-darkened green eyes intensely with her own. Pulling lightly at golden curls, she hums in approval as the blonde tilts her jaw to expose the cream slathered column of her throat.

"Shit..."

Emma lets out a sharp gasp as the brunette's tongue slips over a particularly sensitive spot at the hollow between her collarbones and entwines her fingers loosely within chocolate tresses. Dropping her hands to run her fingers playfully up the Mayor's thighs, she finds the darker woman's hips and pulls her closer. Regina nips sharply at glistening pale flesh before finding the blonde's lips once more and rewarding her passionately as the latter begins to undo the delicate buttons to her silken shirt.

Pulling away the light material to expose the brunette's scant purple bra, the Sheriff unhooks this irritable garment easily before running a wet trail down between the valley of her breasts. Regina groans and leans back, enjoying the blonde's pleasurable attention before taking the younger woman's roaming hands in her own and standing to pull her up with her.

"You're sure Miss Blanchard isn't going to come walking through that door any time soon?"

"Positive."

The Sheriff's response is hoarse and breathless and the Mayor takes a moment to enjoy the rapid rise and fall of her chest before she closes quickly in on the blonde and backs her up against the wall, surreptitiously flipping the small frame depicting the younger woman with her housemate that rests upon the shelf beside them to face the other way.

"Well then..."

She presses herself up against the blonde, hands running up beneath the Sheriff's t-shirt as the younger woman works the clasp of her dress pants deftly. Allowing the crisp material to fall down around her feet, the brunette flicks the garment away neatly with the toe of her shoe as her fingers wander beneath the blonde's bra and she presses her bare thigh against the apex of her jeans.

"Up, dear."

Regina beckons as she pulls at the younger woman so as to reach behind her and unclasp her bra. She slips the emerald lace out from beneath black cotton as she continues to grind her leg against Emma's Levi's. The blonde growls, her hands finding the intricate lace of the Mayor's underwear and plucking it hurriedly down slender legs as the latter fiddles with the button of her jeans. Tugging the rough denim down the Sheriff's thighs, the brunette pulls gray cotton swiftly aside and dips her finger sweetly into the younger woman's entrance as the blonde plays her hands skillfully across pert breasts, hot breath tickling the Mayor's throat.

Pushing the blonde against the wall with a little more force, Regina increases the pace of her fingers, smirking into the younger woman's hair as she lets out a low mewl. Using her palm to grind against sensitive flesh, she bites at the blonde's throat before hissing harshly into her ear.

"Thank you for inviting me..."

Emma lets out a sharp cry as her knees shake dangerously, before finding purchase of the darker woman's lithe frame and switching their positions with surprising ferocity. Playing slender fingers teasingly over waiting flesh, she grins when the Mayor snaps at her to quit messing around and takes heed of her request; moving them swiftly between wet folds as she seeks out kiss-swollen lips with bruising force. Deepening her kiss savagely as the brunette begins to tremble against her, she allows the older woman to ride out her pleasure before moving her lips up to the Mayor's flushed cheek and muttering huskily into the perfect shell of her ear.

"Thanks for coming."


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N:** _So much dialogue! Lyrics at the beginning are- again- not mine, but Greenday's 'Kill the DJ'. _

_PS: To the anon that requested I check out the 'Jennifer Morrison- Boys wanna be her' youtube video, I'm not sure if this is your own or just one you like? Anyway, I did, and it's a cool little video. Thanks._

* * *

"Someone kill the DJ,

Shoot the fucking DJ,

Hold him underwater,

'Till the motherfucker drowns-"

"Ruby... Do you mind? Kind of trying to work here..."

"You're the one playing the music!"

"Uhuh, and when you learn to sing in time and/or in tune, you're welcome to come serenade me... Until then, please, _oh please_, stop murdering the song quite so loudly..."

"Aw, you're no fun!"

"I'm the Sheriff, I'm not supposed to be fun."

"Ah, you're alright... At a pinch."

"Touching."

"What are you even doing?"

"Writing up the report for Miss Ginger's noise complaint."

"...Isn't she your neighbor?"

"And? What are you implying?"

"Nothing! Nothing... I thought you were doing the reports yesterday?"

"Yeah, I started, but I got a little sidetracked."

"I see."

The blonde glances up at the waitress with a frown, watching as she swings herself absently round on the swivel chair opposite the table. The brunette's teeth are bared in a wolfish grin and her eyes glitter with mischief.

"What's tickling you?"

"Nothing..."

"Ruby..."

"You just seem to be getting 'sidetracked' a lot lately."

"Meaning?"

"That it's no wonder you keep complaining you're tired; I would be too if I was getting the amount you seem to be getting..."

"Ruby!"

"What? I'm just saying... You know, it's probably the reason you passed out the other day; too much of a good thing..."

"I already_ told_ you I must've just had a funny spell or something!"

"You did... Doesn't mean I can't think otherwise!"

"Fine, think whatever you want, just shut up and keep it to yourself!"

Emma looks back down at the job at hand irritably, tapping her pen distractedly against her teeth. Ruby sighs, but her eyes continue to shine with good humor; too used to the Sheriff's often prickly ways to be thrown off quite so easily.

"You would think someone who got laid last night would be in a slightly better mood..."

"Oh for fucks sake! Will you let it go? How do you even- You have no_ clue_ what I was doing last night!"

"Not specifically no, and I'm cool with being spared any visual descriptions, but I can recognize a cat that got the cream."

"You're full of it."

"Am I? I ran into Mary Margaret last night as she was making her way upstairs with David Nolan to 'hang out'- yeah, I know, her story sucks- which means that you had the apartment to yourself, and I'm willing to bet you took full advantage of that fact... Tell me, Miss Swan, am I right?"

The Sheriff jumps at the waitress's use of her last name, causing the latter to giggle pleasantly. Rolling her eyes, Emma finally desists her futile attempt to ignore the brunette and leans back in her chair, regarding the younger woman with cool bemusement.

"Remind me to start locking the door to my office?"

"You can't, you're the Sheriff, and can I take that as a 'yes'?"

"Yes. Fine. Yes."

"I knew it!"

"Good for you."

Ruby laughs, wheeling herself closer to the desk so that she can rest her elbows on its surface and lean in close to the Sheriff's face.

"So..."

"So what?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Ruby... Give it a rest."

"Aw, come on..."

The waitress pouts pleadingly, jerking back with a laugh as the blonde flicks at her lip sharply with her finger. Smiling at Emma, the brunette shrugs her defeat, deciding to cease her incessant probing before the Sheriff's mock irritation becomes the real thing.

"Ok, I'll stop... Although I don't know why you're so damn secretive and grouchy about it if this person is making you so happy!"

"I guess I'm just a bitch?"

"Sorry, nope, don't buy it... Whatever. If you're happy, I'm happy."

"...Thanks."

"And without bugging you for any more details, did you at least have fun last night?"

"... Yeah, I did. It was good...I made dinner."

The blonde blushes slightly, eyes downcast resolutely to the paper before her as she ignores the waitress's crow of delight.

"I thought you said you were going to stop?"

"Ok, ok, I will! Actually, I'd better be going anyway, I need to start getting things set up for lunch."

"Thank god."

"Oh stop it, you love having me around."

"So young, and_ so_ delusional."

"You're a terrible actress."

"And _you're _a terrible waitress; it's quarter to twelve!"

"Shit!"

It's Emma's turn to laugh as she watches the brunette stumble slightly in her hurry to get out of her chair. Sitting back and pulling her long hair into a messy knot, she regards Ruby with amusement as the younger woman wrestles with her coat.

"Just tell Granny you were helping me solve crime and serve justice."

"I doubt she'd be impressed, she'd rather I was serving customers."

"Odd... What with it being your job and all..."

"I know, right!"

Finally wrapped up to face the winter chill, the brunette offers the Sheriff a small wave as she takes her leave. Debating the act briefly, she decides to throw all pretense out the window- taking solace in the fact that Emma will unlikely be able to catch her in her current position- and grins cattily over her shoulder.

"By the way, should I tell the Mayor you like cinnamon on your hot chocolate next time she stops by and orders you one?"

"...Huh?"

"I just think she should know, if this is going to become a regular new addition to your relationship."

"Wait, what?"

"Just something to think about, but I need to go. Bye!"

"Wait, Ruby, come back! Ruby!"

The blonde jumps out of her chair, smacking her leg painfully against the desk, and hurries off after the waitress as the younger woman bolts from the Station. Panting as she reaches the main door, Emma yells after her frantically, Ruby turning round and jogging backwards to reply.

"Ruby! What the hell are you on about?"

"I think you know!"

"No, I don't know, enlighten me!"

"I think you're nuts, Emma!"

"What? Ruby!"

"But like I said, if you're happy, I'm happy!"

"Ruby, wait! Please!"

"Can't! I'm late for work! Later!"

"Ruby!"

Eyes wide as the younger woman disappears from view with a final wave of her hand, the Sheriff falls back against the door with a groan, shaking her head in disbelief. Massaging her temples distractedly, she tries to remain calm.

She has no clue how in the hell the young brunette has come to possess her apparent knowledge and finds herself in somewhat of a moral dilemma. She likes Ruby a lot- an awful lot, truth be told- but trust is not something she comes by easily, and despite her friendship with the waitress she can't quite settle the fear creeping nauseatingly in the pit of her stomach that the younger woman will let something slip. She doesn't believe it would be a malicious action, and she reassures herself with the knowledge that the waitress has- to her knowledge- kept silent over finding her locked suspiciously in her own damn cellblock, but she can't quite shake her concerns.

"How the fuck did you figure that one out...?"

Stalking stiffly back into the Station, she enters the small kitchen and makes herself a cup of potent black coffee, sighing as she wishes absently for something a little stronger.

* * *

"Regina."

The Mayor turns briskly outside Granny's, searching for the source of the voice calling out to her. With a frown, her eyes come to rest on the old pawnbroker who sits on one of the small tables outside with a steaming cup of tea.

"Gold."

Stalking over, she takes a seat opposite him, raising an eyebrow in silent request that he make his reason for hailing her over to the table clear.

"You're looking well."

"... Thank you."

"Must have slept well the last few nights?"

"... No more or less so than usual. What do you want, Gold."

"Oh, I was just mulling something over in my mind and thought you might be able to help me."

"Oh?"

"It pertains to our dear Sheriff."

"What about her?"

"She and I had a most peculiar conversation the other day, did she tell you that?"

"Why would Miss Swan tell me such a thing?"

"Oh, I don't know, I just wondered if it had come up in passing."

"... I try to refrain from spending any more time with the Sheriff than is absolutely necessary."

"A wise choice... And yet... That isn't strictly true now, is it, dearie?"

"I can assure you it is."

"Curious then, that the young Sheriff's car should be parked outside your house in the middle of the night..."

"It isn't my fault the idiotic woman mistook a game played- albeit foolishly- by my son as a genuine distress call. Believe me, Sheriff Swan is not someone I take pleasure in seeing during working hours, to have to put up with her coming round to my own home was most unfavorable."

"If you say so. I must say... I _am_ surprised to see the young woman looking so well..."

"Is she?"

"Oh yes... She's quite the pretty little thing, as I'm sure you'd agree-"

"-Hardly-"

"-And she was looking nothing short of radiant when I saw her last... Of course her determination to greet the day with a scowl detracted from this somewhat, but yes, on the whole, I'd say she looked very well."

"Fabulous, and your telling me this because?"

"Oh for no reason, dearie, I was just confessing my surprise... Following the altercation in your office the other day, well, I had just assumed the young Sheriff might have found herself in a spot of bother..."

"...You were responsible for those papers, Gold, not Emma."

"...Perhaps. Still, I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little surprised at your reaction to her innocence. Whether she requested those papers or not, I was under the impression you viewed the Sheriff with distaste, and yet... You seemed almost _concerned_ upon finding her blameless."

"If that's your perception..."

"... It is... Although I suppose in your eyes, Miss Swan could hardly be considered blameless in any respect."

"Yes, well, my opinion of the woman is my own."

"...Indeed."

The brunette frowns as Gold surveys her with glittering eyes, the air thick with a sense of malice and her breath seeming to hitch every now and then in her throat. She is wary of where this conversation is headed, unsure exactly as to the pawnbroker's motives, but aware that they are surely twisted.

She glances up distractedly as the ditzy young waitress trots outside to clear the tables on her ridiculous heels, her eyes shining with unkind amusement at the way the younger woman's sordidly bare legs seem tinged almost blue with cold.

_What on earth does Emma see in you..._

Returning her gaze to Gold, she fusses with her hair primly, lips pursed in distaste.

"Did you actually want anything, Gold, or do you honestly believe that I enjoy such chitchat."

"Oh, I don't want anything, not from you anyway."

"... Not from me?"

"Well, it's not _you_ I have a deal with now, is it?"

"What deal?"

"Oh, nothing that concerns you, dear. The Sheriff merely owes me a favor. I suppose I was pondering this fact and got sidetracked."

"... She owes you a favor?"

"Indeed."

"... And what might that be?"

"Oh, I'll think of something when the time's right, nothing to worry yourself about."

"Forgive me, but your favors are not generally something to be taken lightly."

"Why, whatever are you referring to, dearie?"

"Nothing."

Nodding quietly, the peculiar little man takes a sip of his tea as he continues to watch the Mayor raptly. Regina frowns, disturbed at the knowledge that the blonde has at some point managed to in debt herself to the landlord.

"You seem troubled?"

"No. Just confused as to why you're telling me all this."

"No reason... Just letting my words get away from me it would seem. I suppose I had wanted to let you in on how things stood as I had mistaken your recent behaviour as strangely favorable to Miss Swan. One is sure to jump to conclusions when they find out about such late night visits after all."

"...I have no interest in the woman, nor in what trouble she has found herself in with yourself."

"Because if you_ were_ to find yourself ill at ease with the fact the young Sheriff was foolish enough to make a deal with me, I would find myself beginning to wonder if perhaps you harbored a small amount of care for the woman."

"I-"

"-And if_ that_ was the case, I would also wonder just what you would be willing to _offer_ me so as to relieve the Sheriff of her burden."

The brunette shrinks back with a hiss of distaste as the pawnbroker leans conspiringly towards her, his curiously dry scent assaulting her senses threateningly.

"Your business with Miss Swan is your business. I have no interest in the Sheriff's well being..."

"I don't believe you, dearie."

"Then you are a fool."

"And you're a liar."

"How dare you-"

"- You think I'm blind to how things have changed? You think I would be telling you all this if I simply wanted someone to talk to? You care for the woman, and that puts me in a very advantageous position, Madame Mayor-"

"-You're insane-"

"-Her car was at your house! And I don't believe for a second that the little harlot was there on a distress call! I-"

"-Can I get you anything else?"

Gold glances up furiously at Ruby who has come to stand before their table with her pen and paper at the ready. Shooing her away with a flick of his hand, he returns his attention to the Mayor. Regina glares at the young brunette as she remains stood where she is, raising an eyebrow irritably.

"Miss Lucas? Something wrong?"

"No, not at all, Madame Mayor, I'm just glad you're ok!"

"...Why on earth wouldn't I be?"

"I thought you were in trouble the other night? Emma and I were out by the Station when she received a call on the police radio to come to yours right away? I trust it wasn't anything serious?"

"She received a call on the police radio?"

Gold inquires with a frown, regarding the waitress and thus missing the Mayor's own perplexed expression.

"Well yeah... She figured it must have been something pretty serious or you wouldn't be calling her... Given how you guys have this problem with each other... No offense..."

"...None taken... Everything's fine. Henry called her as a joke... I guess he didn't realize how irresponsible it was to do so on her police radio..."

Ruby smiles, expressing that she's glad all is well before trotting back inside. Glaring back at the pawnbroker who remains with his brow furrowed at the waitress's words, the brunette takes her leave, snapping at him that he can mind his own business next time he conjures such fanciful ideas of friendship.

Stalking into the diner, Regina spots the waitress up at the counter and makes her way over warily.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You weren't with the Sheriff. She doesn't even use her radio."

"But Mr Gold doesn't know that..."

Dark eyes flashing as the brunette frowns, she studies Ruby intently, trying to grasp an understanding of her current situation.

"But why lie to him."

"I wasn't the only one lying..."

"Just what are you insinuating...?"

"Nothing. Look, Emma's my friend, and you're her... I just don't trust Gold."

"But you're trusting me?"

Low. Incredulous. No pretense at feigned civility.

"I'm trusting Emma."

Shrugging as though disinterested, Ruby offers the brunette a nod of farewell and disappears into the back, leaving the Mayor staring after her stunned.


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N: **_Just a short one. I struggled for a while with with deciding whether or not to write this chapter or one similar to it. I realise that at no point in this fic has the idea of homosexuality really been addressed, and, as I have discussed with a friend on here, I personally don't really think most SQ scenarios- mine, and other author's- really need it to be. That said, as this has ended up being so much longer than I had originally planned, and I have bought in other characters etc, I felt maybe I should touch on it just slightly as I know some of you find it odd that this hasn't been done. I've done it incredibly lightly (I think) and I by no means mean to tread on anyone's toes regarding the issue, especially if you feel it deserves to be explored more/ reactions should be different. By all means if you feel this way, let me know! I'm perfectly happy to receive comments and requests regarding this, but I just wanted to make it clear that I do not intend to piss anyone off with my take on things as I understand this can be a touchy subject._

* * *

"Oh No! Oh fuck! Stop it! _Stop it_!"

The young brunette buries her face into the blonde's chest as the latter laughs huskily.

"Um, Ruby... You're kind of... umm... Could you get off me?"

The waitress shakes her head, remaining safely pressed into the comforting warmth of the Sheriff. Emma rolls her eyes, shuffling awkwardly and pushing the younger woman away with a giggle.

"You're such a goof!"

"Oh_ I'm_ sorry! Just because I don't want to watch some guy get his face cut off! Why the hell would anyone do that! And look!_ Look_! What's _she _doing now!... Wait she's not going to... no... no way... Oh fuck! Gross!"

The waitress covers her eyes with a groan as the blonde simply guides a heaped spoonful of Cherry Garcia into her mouth and raises an eyebrow at the latest scene of bloodshed to grace the screen. Deeming it safe to lower her hands from the lack of tortured cries, Ruby regards Emma curiously before returning her attention to the movie, her heartbeat slightly frantic.

"Why do you watch this stuff!?"

"It's a good movie."

"Well... It's better than the one we watched the other week... at least there's no shoving of sharp objects into places they have no business being shoved!"

"...It's not the end of the movie yet..."

The Sheriff grins cattily at the apprehensive glance the waitress throws her, inwardly wishing the younger woman would quit leaning quite so close; Ruby's shoulder pressed firmly into her ribs as the brunette leans companionably against her and hugs her legs up onto her lap. Sighing, she uses her spoon to point to the case which rests on the table, speaking through a mouthful of creamy dessert which detracts slightly from her purposeful scholarly tone.

"No, Miss Lucas, the Devil's Rejects is of a much higher caliber than Cannibal Holocaust, I can assure you. Just look at the lighting, the filming, the superior acting. The direction is beautifully done and _oh sweet Jesus did you see the way his brains just fell out of his head!_"

Rolling her eyes, the brunette gives the Sheriff an amiable jab in the shoulder, absentmindedly twisting pale gold curls around her finger as she continues to watch the movie with an occasional grimace.

"You know, she kind of looks like you."

"Who?"

"Baby."

"You think so?"

"Well, older, but yeah."

"Hmm, good to know I have options for the future! She's a lot prettier than I am."

"Nah, not really, and also, she's a_ serial killer_, Emma, could we maybe focus on_ that_ being the problem in the comparison."

"Oh, right, yeah, sorry... Probably not the best role model."

"You think!?"

"Whatever, her boots are cool."

"Yes, because that's something you're in desperate need of; more boots..."

"You want to be wearing ice cream? Keep talking!"

Ruby shrieks as the blonde accosts her with a newly loaded spoon, batting her arm away as the older woman chuckles huskily. Throwing Emma a murderous glare, she tosses back her hair as the movie's protagonists dig into a similar frozen treat on the screen.

She had been keen to come and see the blonde, a little shaken by the intensity of the conversation overheard in the diner and more than a little curious as to what Emma's reaction to being caught out would be. She had sent the Sheriff a text while cleaning up after lunch, asking if the older woman wanted to hang out for the evening. When this had gone unanswered for several hours her stomach had started to knot itself nervously, worried that she had perhaps ruined their friendship with her brazen admission to knowing the truth. At around five o'clock her phone had hummed quietly in her pocket, however, and she had been relieved to receive one of Emma's typically curt texts.

'Fine. Bring Provisions. No health stuff. E '

The coldness of the message hadn't really thrown her, used to the blonde's nihilistic tendencies with the written word. Still, as she had stood outside the Sheriff's apartment with a paper bag bearing ice cream and beer- a sure way to get back on the older woman's good side- she had wondered how Emma would react to her earlier antics. To her surprise, the blonde had pulled open the door with a grin, taking her coat amiably enough before beckoning her over to the sofa with the friendly request that she join her in watching what she had referred to as 'Only one of the best movies ever!'.

Now, as the bloodshed finally draws to a close, she studies the Sheriff intently out of the corner of her eye as the blonde nibbles at the pink mush on her spoon appreciatively, eyes glued to the screen and nodding her head slightly to the beat of the music accompanying the final scene. Waiting for the credits to roll, Ruby clears her throat and pushes herself away from the older woman so that she sits with her back pressed against the armrest of the sofa, her long legs still resting lightly in the latter's lap.

"So..."

"So what?"

The waitress rolls her eyes irritably, drinking in the defensive rigidness to Emma's posture as the blonde pointedly remains transfixed on the screen as though her life depends on discerning who acted as key grip for the film.

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"...Why?"

"Well... Because you're my friend... And you're dating the goddamn _Mayor_..."

"We're not 'dating'."

"And she's terrifying.."

"Sometimes."

"And she's... Well... I didn't know you even... You know..."

"Didn't what? Go on?"

"She's a woman."

"Your powers of observation are simply extraordinary. What do you want? A fucking cookie?"

"Emma..."

The blonde sighs, finally twisting in her seat to regard the waitress moodily.

"I don't _know_, alright? I don't know what you want me to tell you... I don't have much of a clue on all of this myself... How did you even find out?"

"I came by the station yesterday and saw you two sitting outside..."

"Oh."

"But... I mean... Ok, look. I don't get it, I'll tell you that right now... The woman scares the shit out of me and I doubt I'm alone..."

"Well... She's not like that if you get to know her."

"Hey, I'm not saying she is! I just... I'm just surprised is all... After everything you two have been through, you know?"

"You and me both, Ruby."

The brunette lets out a sigh of relief as green eyes look back at her in confusion. Confusion she can take. She can understand. She's just relieved the blonde doesn't seem angry with her. Shuffling a little closer, she offers the Sheriff a kind smile, proceeding carefully.

"You said yourself though that you were happy?"

"... I am."

"Well then... I guess it doesn't matter if you can't make sense of some stuff."

"... No."

Emma offers up her own crooked grin, brushing absently at her cheek, completely bewildered and wondering why in the hell her eyes are watering. Letting out a small, pained huff of air as the brunette launches forward and encircles her waist, she sniffs awkwardly, clearing her throat as the younger woman's hair tickles her nose.

"Could you... Could you not do that?"

Ruby pulls back sheepishly, her bright eyes wretchedly kind as she smiles at the Sheriff, causing the blonde to cast her eyes down to her lap.

"You can't tell anyone, ok?"

"I won't... But..."

"But what?"

Suddenly the Sheriff's tone is hard, laced with panic as she glances up at the brunette sternly.

"But _what_, Ruby?"

"Look, don't freak out, ok, but when I was working earlier, Gold was at the diner and he called Regina over when she was walking past... I didn't hear everything but... I think he kind of knew something... And I'm guessing by the look on your face you had a suspicion he might?... He was trying to get Regina to admit to what was going on... He said he saw your car outside her house and that he believed you were there because... Well... You were seeing her for 'non-business' reasons... Umm... He was telling her something about a deal but I don't really know... He just seemed to be stirring the shit..."

"Fuck!"

"I, uh, I kind of stepped in a bit..."

"... You _what_?"

"Well... After teasing you this morning I was pretty sure that I was right about you and the Mayor... Personally, I find Regina to be nothing but bad news, but, as you said, I don't know her all that well... I just saw it as two people having an argument and one was beginning to make things a little too threatening... I simply went over and asked her if she was ok."

"...I bet she loved _that_..."

"Ha, no, I explained I meant ok in general... After having been out with you when you received the distress call the other night on your police radio..."

"On my what?"

"You know, that piece of technology you were told to have with you at all times when you started the job that you use as a paper weight?"

"Ruby..."

"I just told her I presumed it must have been something serious if she was calling_ you_, given that you two don't like each other... I assured her I meant no offense..."

"You... But you weren't with me when Henry called...?"

"No shit, Sherlock! I'm guessing he didn't call the damn radio either!"

"But... Regina knows that..."

"Yes, but Gold doesn't..."

"You... Oh my god..."

"Whatever Gold _thinks_ he knows... I'd guess he's having second thoughts right about now..."

"You... Are incredible..."

Ruby lets out a pleasant yelp as the blonde suddenly throws herself at her, giggling as she wraps her arms tightly around the Sheriff's slim form. Smirking into blonde curls, she adopts a high pitched crow of delight, her eyes sparkling with good humor.

"Oh my god! Is Emma Swan _hugging_ me?!"

"Shut up..."

The Sheriff mumbles into the brunette's shoulder before pushing herself briskly away and sniffing with an ill-attempted air of disinterest. Letting out a small noise as her emotions continue to overwhelm her, she pushes back her hair as she regards the waitress in disbelief.

"I... I can't believe you did that..."

Ruby smiles, shuffling round so that she sits beside the blonde and throwing an arm companionably around skinny shoulders.

"_I_ can't believe you cooked dinner for the fucking Mayor!"


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N: **_Sorry about the wait. I got a PM request for an illustration (thanks!) so ended up trying my hand at Swan Queen with pen and ink instead. Well, no, I lie; tablet and illustrator. If you want evidence, there's a link to my crappy little doodle site on my profile on here and it's in the 'Once Upon A Time' folder. _

_Well, now that I'm done shamelessly plugging my mediocre drawing and begging- not so slyly- for requests to keep me busy, here's number 50 for you all! Please review, and enjoy! :)_

_Ps. Oh yes, and thanks to Bella for the new icon/ image thing for this story, it made me laugh a lot :)_

* * *

"Yes?"

The brunette snaps distractedly as she looks up from the papers littering her desk. Eying the door with distaste as it swings heavily open, her furrowed brow softens only slightly as she Sheriff allows herself into the office in a sweep of red leather.

_God, I wish I could burn that damned coat._

"Miss Swan?"

"Hey."

Emma smiles tentatively and points to the chair opposite the Mayor's. Raising an eyebrow, Regina nods and gestures that the younger woman should take a seat. Watching as the blonde makes her way over and sits down, it occurs to her that this is the first time in weeks that the Sheriff has come to see her for what is presumably business; badge glittering brightly atop dark denim and the younger woman's long hair tamed into some sense of submission.

"What can I do for you?"

"Uh... I was kind of hoping we could talk."

The brunette freezes, her eyes widening as she regards the pale woman warily. She has never imagined Emma as one for 'talking' as it were, but with recent events, she finds the notion a little worrying to say the least.

"...Okay... What seems to be the problem?"

The blonde blinks at her in confusion, before shaking her head and twisting in her seat so that she sits with her knees pulled up childishly in front of her.

"No problem... Just... Just something I guess we need to discuss... If that's okay?"

Regina shrugs as through disinterested, but she lets out the breath she'd not realized she'd been holding in quietly and nods for her companion to continue.

"Ruby came round mine last night... to watch a movie."

"Oh..."

"She mentioned you spoke with Gold."

"I did."

The brunette sighs, leaning back into her chair and regarding the younger woman levelly.

"Gold approached me with a similar question to the one he asked you; why your car was parked outside my house so late at night. I tried to cover your tracks- and mine- but he seemed a little... unimpressed, shall we say? Your little friend came over to intervene..."

"I know, she told me."

"Yes... well..."

"And from what she told me, she did a pretty decent job of throwing Gold off..."

"Only because she's an _idiot_ and he would never expect an ounce of cunning from the little strumpet!"

"... It wouldn't kill you to be grateful, you know..."

"Sheriff, the day I shower that young woman with gratitude will be the day I admit myself to a mental hospital! She-"

"-She what? Regina? She what!? She was just trying to help!"

"Well she wouldn't _need_ to help if you hadn't been foolish enough to park your damn car outside my house!"

"...Seriously?"

The brunette frowns and struggles to regain her temper, dark eyes flashing as she watches her Sheriff visibly raise her guard. Finding the younger woman's wary green gaze, she studies her intently before letting out a defeated sigh and staring down at the table. She feels ashamed at her sudden outburst, but she cant shake the feeling of irrational dislike the young waitress summons from her.

_You know how I feel about Ruby. Know how I feel about the time you two spend together. Why _her_? I understand she's only trying to help... But why does it have to be _her_... So eager to rush to your aid... And in a way I couldn't this time..._

Pulling a hand through her hair, she regards Emma tentatively, keeping her voice low and placating when she continues.

"You know I didn't mean it like that..."

"...Do I?"

"Emma..."

"...Don't... Don't say things like that then, if you don't mean them..."

The blonde huffs irritably, but the Mayor doesn't miss the hurt note in her tone. Tapping her fingers lightly against her thigh, the brunette nods, sighing.

"I'm sorry."

"...Ok."

"... I was... I was unaware Miss Lucas knew we were on any degree of amiable terms...?"

"Yeah, well, so was I until yesterday..."

"Oh?"

"She saw us outside the Station the other day... She's been badgering me for weeks in regards to who I keep blowing her off to see... I guess some of her ideas must have come together seeing us clearly getting on so well when we thought no one was looking..."

"I see."

Regina steeples her fingers delicately beneath her chin, regarding the Sheriff curiously.

_Have you really? You've blown off the young brunette so come see me?_

Something about that thought makes her spine tingle. She tells herself to stop being foolish- that of course the younger woman would make such sacrifices in the simple hope of sex- but knows well enough that this isn't the case. Offering Emma a small smile, she lets out a low sigh of relief when the blonde reciprocates.

"I'm guessing she confronted you about it?"

"Yeah, although 'confront' probably isn't a fair way of putting it... She made some comments when she left the Station yesterday that put me on edge because she clearly knew_ something_... When she came over last night she asked me straight out if we were going to talk about it... I didn't really tell her anything, just stopped pretending she was wrong... I told her I made you dinner..."

The Sheriff blushes furiously and the Mayor can't quite decide whether to roll her eyes or smirk. She feels a peculiar churning deep in her stomach at the thought of Emma sharing anything about their decidedly rocky relationship with the waitress, as though their ups and downs are simple locker-room talk, but she knows the blonde well enough to know she's unlikely to be quite so blasé.

"And... What does Miss Lucas think?"

"She thinks I'm crazy for cooking the Mayor dinner!... She... She's a nice girl... I know you don't like her, and I'm not going to argue about that... But... She basically said that so long as I was happy, she was happy..."

"A good friend after all, then."

Regina states quietly. The Sheriff had spoken correctly; she doesn't like Ruby, and she doubts she ever will. Of course there are past trespasses to take into account, but she is wise enough in herself to know that what it all comes down to here is the fact that Emma likes Ruby. She is a little taken aback, however, by the slight quiver in the younger woman's voice upon her last few words, and she sighs as she is confronted, yet again, with the fact that she feels a small sense of sadness as to the blonde's obvious lack of previous companionship.

"Well, I suppose what's done is done."

"She won't tell anyone..."

Emma mutters as she regards the Mayor nervously, and Regina shakes her head, dark eyes flickering with well-hidden fear as she is inwardly hit with the realization of just how much she's become to like the younger woman sitting before her.

_Damn. I mean,_ lust_ for her, sure, ever since the day of the storm. Possibly even before that; she's an attractive girl. But _liking_ her?_

Yes. Liking her. Caring for her. But_ liking_ her also.

"Come here, dear."

The blonde raises and eyebrow in confusion as the darker woman beckons her with a gracious sweep of her hand. Rising from her seat and making her way curiously around the table to stand before the brunette, she lets out a small noise of irritable incomprehension as Regina pulls her gently down onto her lap.

"What are you doing?"

Ignoring Emma's obvious puzzlement, the Mayor simply pulls at her until she instinctively settles to straddle silken dress pants.

"Umm..."

The look of pure confusion on the blonde's face as to how their small argument has ended with her sitting on the brunette's lap has Regina smirking as she reaches up and cups pleasantly warm cheeks.

When Emma leans forwards to brush her lips gently against the Mayor's own, the older woman happily lets her, as such an act comes almost naturally now. She doesn't deepen the kiss however, but plays her fingers gently through long hair, and closes her eyes to better appreciate the simple feel of the blonde's reassuring weight on her lap. Tugging gently at cornsilk tresses, she waits for the Sheriff to sit back and return her gaze before continuing in a more serious tone.

"Gold mentioned you made a deal with him..."

"He did?"

Regina watches as a frown graces pale features.

"Is he wrong?"

"No... I just don't see why he'd bring that up when talking to you..."

"You _did_ make a deal with him then?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"-Oh, Emma..."

"What? He was trying to take that poor girl's baby... Her fucking _baby_! I just... I asked if I could make a deal instead... I mean, what's there to lose? I don't have anything he'd want... Well... Apart from power the job gives me, but... what... why are you looking at me like that?"

Pushing blonde curls away from the younger woman's face as Emma peers down at her, Regina links her hands loosely around the Sheriff's waist as she frowns pensively.

"Gold's a force to be reckoned with, dear. You may not have seen evidence of that yet, but I promise you, he's more than just an old man with cane. You don't want to be owing him anything... _I _don't want you to be owing him anything... And that's what might prove problematic."

"...How?"

"Well, the reason the little wh- Ruby pitched in was due to the old bastard running his mouth about what he thinks he knows about you and I... _You_ may not have anything he wants- at least, I would hope not- but if he finds out his assumptions hold some truth..._ I_ am in a less advantageous state..."

"Why, what would he want from you?"

The brunette studies the blonde with glittering dark eyes, her blood thrumming a little faster in her throat at the hard steel that laces the Sheriff's suddenly protective tone. Lowering her hands from the younger woman's slim waist to rest pleasantly over the firm flesh of her backside, Regina swallows, the blonde's green-eyed scrutiny intense in its demand for an answer.

"He and I have a rather complicated history... The less he has to hold over me, the better, dear. I can't express seriously enough how bad it would be should he find out about and use my affection for you to play as his upper hand."

"... A-affection for me?"

Emma blinks in surprise, tensing visibly and the brunette rolls her eyes, fingers playing absently over pert flesh.

"Oh, come on, Miss Swan, let's just call a spade a spade... You drove over to my house to make sure I was alright after a simple phone call suggesting otherwise, you took me to bed, you made me dinner, hell, you even scrubbed me up in the shower... And I have done similar things for you. So yes. I possess an element of affection for you... Quite a large one at that... Which Gold _must not_ find out, do you understand me?"

"Okay."

The Mayor's eyes flash with surprise as cheap leather suddenly encircles her neck and the blonde presses a decidedly clumsy kiss to her brow. Finding the younger woman's waist once more, she instinctively wraps her arms around her as tightly as she can.

Finally, Emma pulls back a little, her cheeks stained a delicate pink as she smiles timidly.

"I, uh, well I guess I clearly think you're not all that bad either..."

"Always the poet..."

"Oh, go fuck yourself!"

Regina smirks, the Sheriff's tone free from any real irritation as she grumbles amiably.

"Now why would I do that, when I have you sitting so very nicely in my lap?"

The brunette raises an eyebrow coyly and laughs at the peculiar innocence that crosses the blonde's features as she opens her mouth in surprise. Taking advantage of such an opportunity, the Mayor brushes her mouth against parted lips sensually, smiling when unmistakable lust replaces the younger woman's odd momentary chasteness.

"Well, now that's out the way, will you please remove that... hideous... monstrosity... of a... jacket."

The brunette mutters against soft lips, alternating each word with a kiss. She smirks as the Sheriff complies, the younger woman never once breaking contact as she blindly wrestles off obnoxious red leather and tosses the garment distractedly to the floor.

"Better?"

"Hmm, I suppose you'll do..."

Regina quips coquettishly as she searches out the Sheriff's velvet tongue, frowning when Emma pulls away to study her. Rolling her eyes, she opens her mouth to admonish the younger woman for being quite so goddamn touchy some of the time, but the latter's gaze silences her; green eyes flickering about her face intensely.

"... I won't let him hurt you, you know."

The Mayor shivers as her breath catches in her throat, the blonde's voice low and dangerous. Pulling the younger woman back towards her, she finds her throat and grazes pale skin gently with her teeth before soothing reddened flesh with her tongue. Speaking quietly into the Sheriff's heavy curls, she lets her arms come to rest around the younger woman's slender frame.

"Don't make promises you can't keep..."


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N:** _Well this one wasn't really planned at all... It just kind of happened... Still! Enjoy! Review! You know the drill :)_

* * *

_"Don't make promises you can't keep..."_

"Huh?"

Emma pulls back a little, glancing down curiously, but the Mayor shakes her head, simply guiding pretty pink lips to her own as she nips and licks at sweet, supple flesh. The brunette smirks appreciatively as the Sheriff lets out a low whimper, running her hands up beneath the soft white cotton of her tank top to explore the muscular ridges and planes of her spine.

"What did you say?"

The Sheriff breathes huskily as she uses her own slender fingers to force back the darker woman's jaw, running the tip of her tongue teasingly down the column of Regina's neck as she moves herself a little to straddle the brunette's hips more forcefully.

"Nothing, dear..."

The Mayor sighs, her hands cupping twin blades as the blonde's shoulders ripple like angel wings beneath her fingers. Finding the narrow clasp to the younger woman's bra, she relinquishes her of the garment briskly, before running her hands up the latter's taught frame beneath her shirt to palm coyly at her breasts.

"Didn't sound like nothing..."

"Hush..."

Biting down aggressively at the Sheriff's frail collarbone, she earns herself sweet silence as Emma tenses blissfully in her lap. She soothes the cruel indentation of her teeth with her tongue, sucking gently at the mark and earning herself a low chuckle.

"You know, if we're supposed to be being careful, it may be an idea if you stop bruising my throat quite so often..."

"Wear a scarf..."

The brunette mutters, inwardly smirking at the regretful note to the blonde's suggestion. Biting down a little harder just for pure spite, she smiles against sweet flesh as Emma wriggles frantically on top of her, seeming to alternate between trying to force her gently away and pulling her closer. Eventually the Sheriff leans back fully, stomach visibly taught beneath the thin cotton of her shirt as she uses her core to keep her steady at her newly acquired angle. Her eyes flicker with amusement and she admonishes the Mayor with a playful grin.

"Regina..."

"Don't pretend you don't like it..."

"...I never_ said _I didn't_ like_ it..."

The darker woman raises an eyebrow, regarding the blonde coyly as the latter continues to regard her coquettishly beneath sooty lashes. Pushing at muscular thighs, the Mayor attempts to lift the Sheriff up onto the desk, but they are of a similar weight and in her current position she simply doesn't possess the necessary strength. Emma gets the gist, however, and swings herself easily off crisp silk, hopping gracefully up to perch on the edge of the Mayor's desk with a curious glint in her bright green eyes. Running her finger thoughtfully over her full lips, Regina regards the younger woman appreciatively, her voice sultry and rich when she speaks.

"I suppose I'll just have to find another spot to taste you..."

She expects Emma to blush furiously and respond in her usual clumsy manner, but she recognizes the dark pools of the blonde's pupils from when the younger woman has previously been aroused and knows that, curiously, it is in this state of playful limbo that the Sheriff tends to become a little more eloquent, however sordid her words may be.

"Do your worst."

It is a simple statement, not particularly kinky when taken out of context, but the Mayor wets her lips with her tongue as the younger woman proceeds to lean back a little and slowly pluck up the material of her shirt to expose the pale expanse of her stomach. Smirking devilishly, the blonde raises an eyebrow as the darker woman pulls herself forwards in her chair to sit closer in a curiously business-like manner.

"Careful what you wish for, dear."

In her current position, the brunette sits comfortably between the Sheriff's parted thighs, her eyes level with the blonde's flimsily covered breasts. Reaching round to grip at pert denim, she scoots the Sheriff forward just a little- smirking at the sweet yelp the younger woman makes as her hands flail behind her for purchase- and runs her tongue teasingly a few inches above the waistband of her jeans.

"Hey! That tickles!"

Regina chuckles huskily as she glances up to see the blonde biting her bottom lip in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. Skimming her tongue cruelly over creamy flesh to dip in at the younger woman's navel, she smirks victoriously as Emma thrashes and tries to get away, her throaty laughter filling the room pleasantly. Taking a twisted form of pity on her prey, the brunette's dark eyes flash dangerously and she nips sharply at the Sheriff's flesh without warning.

"_Ah_!"

The brunette pulls away quickly, studying the blonde in amusement. She knows her companion well enough by now not to confuse her pained yelp as a lack of pleasure, and her thoughts are quickly concluded when green eyes gaze down at her lustfully. Running her tongue purposefully over the small red mark she's created just left of the Sheriff's navel, she maintains eye-contact intently until she bites down once more in a flash of perfect white teeth. This time she uses a little more force, clamping hot flesh at the blonde's ribs between her teeth and flicking her tongue lightly over the imprisoned area.

"Holy shit..."

The younger woman has her eyes squeezed shut, her breathing rapid as she continues to hold a hand to her chest to keep her top up and out of the way. Taking opportunity of her element of surprise, Regina hones in with vicious intent, biting down savagely at the taught skin that lines the blonde's hip bone with a force that is dangerously close to drawing blood. She keeps her teeth firmly in place as Emma thrashes and kicks, determining her insistence to keep going from the way the Sheriff hisses pleasurably, her fingers tapping out idiot rhythms on the desktop as she squirms madly beneath the brunette's ministrations.

Increasing the pressure until she tastes a slight tang of copper, the Mayor cries out in surprise as the blonde's writhing has her suddenly toppling off the desk to land in a heap on the floor in front of her. Unsure whether to laugh or roll her eyes, the brunette waits curiously to see how the Sheriff will react, her eyes glittering as she licks away the sweet residue of the younger woman's blood from her bottom lip.

"Are you alright, dear?"

She smirks as Emma pops up to glance up at her in a tangled mess of golden curls, patting the forearm which comes to rest amiably on her thigh with sarcastic sympathy.

"That good was it?"

"I reckon I could substitute that for you slobbering on my neck, sure."

"Miss Swan, I do not- nor will I ever- 'slobber'..."

The Sheriff grins at the darker woman's defensively perturbed tone, shrugging wickedly. The Mayor regards her casually, content as Emma plays her fingers lazily over the silken material of her dress pants.

"Are you planning on getting up at anytime, dear?"

"Hmm... in a little bit..."

Regina raises an eyebrow before letting out a small gasp as the Sheriff boldly moves her slender fingers to the clasp of her pants and parts the expensive material briskly to expose black lace. She stares down at the blonde silently as the younger woman gestures almost casually that she should lift her hips. She supposes it is Emma's sudden aloofness that has her complying without a second thought, lowering herself back down once the blonde has pulled heavy silk deftly down to pool at her ankles.

"What are you doing?"

"Well... while I'm down here..."

The brunette lets out a low hum as the Sheriff expertly plucks the lace of her underwear to the side and offers up a teasing swipe of her tongue.

"Sheriff... Emma... I-I'm supposed to be working."

"So work. I'm not stopping you."

Green eyes glitter as the younger woman smirks up at her wickedly and the Mayor can't help but feel that their roles have switched with almost nauseating speed. Not that she's really complaining.

"It's a little hard to concentrate with you fooling around down there..."

"Oh no...That's too bad... Sorry."

Regina smirks, the blonde not sounding sorry in the slightest, before letting out a low groan as slender fingers dip sweetly into her wetness and the warm velvet of the younger woman's tongue whispers across her flesh.

She leans her head back blissfully, absently musing over the image they must create. There is something almost regal about the way she sits upon her chair- her throne- with the Sheriff knelt between her legs that both empowers her and disturbs her. Entangling her fingers within pale curls, she hums quietly, trying to dispel thoughts of herself as the queen and simply enjoy the moment.

"That doesn't sound like working..."

Regina glowers incredulously down at the blonde but the younger woman pays her no mind, simply changing her rhythm after muttering against hot flesh. Rolling her eyes despite the telling flutter beginning low in her stomach, the brunette tugs at soft curls irritably, her thighs flexing as she spreads them a little wider.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?"

She gasps as the Sheriff slaps her lightly on the inner thigh as punishment, closing her eyes as her legs begin to tremble and she feels herself falling over the edge.

"You... you're a piece of work, Miss Swan."

She mutters breathlessly as she runs her fingers lightly through the blonde's messy tresses. Finally coming down from her high, she regards the younger woman with pink-cheeked amusement as the latter remains knelt between her legs companionably. Emma shrugs with a grin, tossing back her long curls as she speaks.

"So I've been told..."

"I was supposed to get these papers finished by lunchtime..."

"I'm-"

"-You're _not_ sorry!"

"Nah, you're right, I'm really not. That was much too much fun..."

Tapping the blonde briskly on the nose, the Mayor grumbles at her irritably to get up, pulling her chair closer to the desk and re-stacking the papers that have become a somewhat crumpled heap during their activities. Watching the Sheriff out of the corner of her eye, she clears her throat as the blonde makes to leave with a self-satisfied smirk plastered to her pretty face.

"One moment, Sheriff."

"Huh?"

"Here, if you please."

The Mayor beckons authoritatively with her finger and waits for the blonde to comply and return to stand beside her in confusion. Pulling the younger woman down abruptly, the brunette finds her lips passionately, kissing her deeply to taste herself. Releasing the Sheriff, she offers her a small smirk as she flutters her fingers in farewell.

"Good day, Miss Swan."

"And a good day to _you_, Madame Mayor."

Regina shakes her head in amusement as the blonde takes her leave, her eyes flickering briefly to the small red stain that mars the Sheriff's top at her hip and smiling pensively.


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N: **_I promise this will get back to some sense of overall storyline soon! :)_

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"Hey, dude, what's up?"

"Nothing much, I'm just calling to check in."

"To 'check in'?"

"Yeah, don't get your panties in a twist though, it's just an expression."

"Oh, they're not twisted."

"Probably a good thing."

"Sounds painful."

"Depends what you're into I guess."

"If you say so."

"What are you up to?"

"Just having dinner."

"Ugh, jealous, I'm still at work! What are you having?"

"Uh... fruit salad?"

"Fruit salad? _Really_?"

"Yeah."

"You? _You're_ eating a fruit salad?"

"Well, it's more just grapes really."

"Just grapes?"

"Yeah."

"...Are they fermented by any chance?"

"Uh..."

"You're having wine for dinner, aren't you?"

"... Maybe."

"Emm-aaa!"

The blonde chuckles as she sips at her glass, pulling her feet up underneath her on the old threadbare sofa. She reaches beside her to pluck a few M&Ms from a bowl on the side table- the idea of a 'snack bowl' an odd concept revered by her housemate and one which she suspects has been racking up a serious grocery bill since she's moved in- and tosses them expertly into her mouth, her words muffled slightly by the colourful chocolate.

"I've got candy too though, so it's all good."

"That's not a _meal_, you idiot!"

"Says who?"

"Me. I'm coming over."

"Oh no you're not!"

"Am too! I have a fridge-load of quiche that needs to be eaten. It's stilton and broccoli; probably the closest you're gonna get to eating any sort of greenery."

"Shut up, I eat vegetables all the time."

"Fries don't count, babycakes."

"Shit, what_ are _you, my mother?"

"Nope; your concerned friend, armed with quiche and a movie."

"Oh god, please tell me we're not watching some Bridget Jones type crap."

"Oh, you mean a movie that was nominated for an Oscar? Or are we only watching movies vouched for by Billy Hammer or whatever his name is?"

"Billy Chainsaw, and no, I just don't want to watch some girl bawling her eyes out about her pathetic love life."

"You should be a counsellor, Emma, you really should."

"Oh, bite me!"

"Nah, I'll pass, besides, you already have someone to do that for you-"

"-Ruby!"

"What?! Am I wrong?"

"I am_ not _discussing this with you-"

"-over the phone? Right, gotcha. I'll be over in an hour or so and you can tell me _all_ about it then."

"You _know _I'll leave you standing outside my building right? I'll do it!"

"Yeah, but I _also_ know that Mary Margaret gets in around the same time and _she_ won't."

"You think?"

"Nah, she's too nice."

"And that would make me?"

"A bitch."

"Charming!"

"Ah, you know I love you really!"

"Christ..."

"And from that heartfelt response I can tell you're just head over heels for me too!"

"...Why do I put up with you?"

"I just told you! I'm irresistible! Now go pour a second glass of wine and I'll see you in a bit!"

Rolling her eyes and chucking the house phone back in its cradle, the Sheriff grins despite herself and stretches cattily. She pads lightly into the kitchen to check the fridge; already having worked her way through the majority of the wine that rests on the coffee table and silently hoping Mary Margaret has thought to buy more. After rummaging around various shelves with growing doubt, she has a cunning epiphany, checking the salad drawer and finding a bottle of chardonnay hidden amongst the carrots.

"Clever, but not quite clever _enough_!"

She smirks, immensely pleased with herself. Pulling herself up onto the kitchen counter- _God, why must that woman store everything so high up?! And I'm fucking_ taller_ than her as well!- _she snatches down two more glasses with the intent to place them in the fridge to cool. Swinging herself back down, she winces at a sharp ache low on her hip. The pain is not entirely unpleasant, but a quick inspection of the area confirms that her acrobatics have served to open up the shallow graze left by the Mayor that afternoon.

"Ah well, badge of honor."

She grabs some kitchen towel and blots it clumsily on the bar of soap that lies beside the sink, rubbing at the laceration to her hip indifferently in an attempt to save her shirt from becoming stained. A sharp rap at the door has her jerking back in surprise, and she swears loudly as she hits her elbow on the countertop and drops the slightly reddened towel.

Making her way over to the door, she wishes- not for the first time- that they were in the possession of a peephole, not really all that fond of surprise visits. Opening the flaking wood just enough to peer through, she raises and eyebrow in surprise.

"Regina?"

"Good evening, dear."

The brunette breezes past her without waiting for an invitation, and the Sheriff follows her distractedly, feeling suddenly like a guest in her own apartment.

"Were you... were you wanting something?"

"... That, Miss Swan, is an interesting question, don't you think?"

"Uh... I guess... Look, not that I don't want you here or anything but-"

"- Miss Blanchard is due home within the hour?"

"...Yeah."

Emma shrugs apologetically before carrying on in a strangely timid voice.

"Actually, Ruby just called to say she was coming over and I think the three of us are going to watch a movie..."

She's not sure what brings her to make this little confession, but there is some small part of her that is intuitive enough to know that the Mayor will be upset should she find out about such a meeting of her own accord. Smiling tentatively, the blonde pulls back her hair into a loose horsetail, her eyes bright behind her thick framed glasses; an item of attire saved only for wearing when in her apartment and one which the brunette loathes to admit she finds strangely sexy.

"I... I'd ask you if you wanted to join, but..."

"I would rather choke down a mouthful of dirt, Miss Swan."

"...I'll take that as a 'no thank you', shall I?"

Emma grins amiably, white teeth flashing as her cheeks dimple, and the darker woman doesn't hesitate to wipe the expression off her face as she steps authoritatively forwards and claims the blonde's lips with her own.

She has found herself distracted since the Sheriff left her office that afternoon; overwhelmed at the uncharacteristic good humor that had been shared- untainted- between them, and she has not let it go forgotten that she never _did_ get around to finishing what she'd started when nipping playfully at tempting pale flesh. Speaking quietly against parted lips she keeps her hands firmly laced around her younger woman's waist, her breath heavy and gaze deep.

"How long till your merry band of assholes shows up?"

"... Forty five minutes, give or take?"

"You're sure?"

"I- I think so..."

"...Best play it safe."

And with that she pushes the blonde forcefully against the kitchen island, delighting in the surprise that alights the Sheriff's features. She moves quickly, roughly, viciously, and she has the younger woman's jeans and panties halfway down her thighs before the latter can even take in what's happening. Pressing Emma firmly into the beaten wood, she enters her with two slender fingers, causing the blonde to cry out in shock.

There are elements to the brunette's current savagery that bring back thoughts of their less than consensual tryst back in the Sheriff's Station, but these memories only serve to highlight the difference in the Mayor's actions in the here and now and back then. It doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde that Regina wets her fingers sweetly with her tongue before her attack; an unnecessary precaution, but a precaution just the same. Nor does she miss the way the brunette rests her hand on the hard surface of the kitchen island, creating a buffer between gnarled wood and the younger woman's tailbone as she slams into her forcefully.

"R-Regina! Fuck!"

The Sheriff's hands flutter madly between clawing behind her at the island's counter top to keep herself steady and clinging desperately to the Mayor as the darker woman maintains her relentless pace.

"Fuck! Stop! No, don't!"

Regina chuckles huskily, doing her best to brush at soft lips, but with the way the younger woman squirms beneath her this is no easy feat. Sensing the Sheriff is close to peaking, she slams her weight roughly against the blonde, acting as a support as the paler woman comes mercilessly undone.

As with the darker woman's style of ministration, the blonde's climax is violent almost to the brink of pain, and the Mayor removes her fingers quickly, enfolding the Sheriff within an oddly protective embrace as the latter shakes weakly. Stroking slightly dampened curls, Regina smirks against the flushed flesh of Emma's cheek, holding her tight as the younger woman's tortured breath tickles her throat.

"I do hate to leave things uneven..."

"That... that was so far from settling the s-score, Regina..."

The brunette smiles, the blonde's hoarse muttering heavy with exertion but free from any signs of irritation or anger.

"Then it looks like you'll just have to think of a way to repay me, dear!"

"Oh, god, not this again!"

But Emma's words are tainted with laughter as she shakily pulls up her jeans and pushes her hair from her face.

"I suggest you hop in the shower, Miss Swan; you have a very rosy 'just fucked' look about you."

"You are pure evil, you know that?"

"... It has been said."

Dark eyes glitter in surprise as the blonde claims a decidedly soft kiss from scarlet lips and the Mayor steps back with a small smile.

"Enjoy your evening, dear. I know_ I_ will."

The Sheriff's eyes widen at this rather ambiguous statement and she clears her throat shyly. Accompanying her guest to the door, she bids her a passionate goodnight, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright.

* * *

Regina makes her way down the building's shabby staircase briskly, her manner purely business-like. She is curiously surprised by herself, and her willingness to allow Emma to enjoy her evening's proposed activities without a little more fuss. She _could_ put this down to the fact that she is logically aware that what the Sheriff does on her own time really isn't any of her business, but she knows her own heart well enough to recognize that she is a woman to whom envy comes with painful ease.

No, however twisted the idea may be- and she'd be the first to admit it- she appropriates a sly smirk as she knows for a_ fact_ that the young blonde isn't going to be thinking about anybody else for a while.

Least of all the promiscuous little waitress.

_Possessiveness is a risky business... Particularly where the Sheriff is concerned... You would do well to keep such thoughts from becoming obvious to the young woman herself...She has made it clear she regards the young brunette with with no carnal intent... Best to keep any form of jealousy hidden if it can't be disposed of._

Yes, she supposes such precautions would be wise. She can't deny, however, the beautiful sensation of elation that spreads warmly through her body at what has been a day of simple enjoyment with the younger woman, even _with_ her ominous request to 'talk'. In fact, that they have ended this evening on such good terms _despite_ that... Well...

Smiling, she makes her way swiftly to her Benz parked a block and a half away, oblivious to the dark coals that follow her every movement.


	53. Chapter 53

**A/N: **_So I have the next portion of the storyline pretty much mapped out... it's quite long though, so I warn you that this fic is just going to keep going and going. I'll try upload some one shots to break it up a bit! As always, I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

The two dark haired women are already sitting comfortably in front of the small television set sipping companionably at glasses of pinot grigio by the time the Sheriff shuffles downstairs. Her hair hangs in damp curls from the shower and she is clad in obnoxiously yellow pajama pants decorated with small black bat symbols beneath a rather skimpy black tank top. Pouring herself a fresh glass of wine- noting appreciatively that several unopened bottles stand patiently on the counter thanks to her housemate- she pads over to where the others sit with a yawn.

"Oh, look, you dressed _up_ for the occasion and everything!"

"Emma, you shouldn't have."

She happily flips her companions the bird and moves to perch on the nearest armrest; the sofa being relatively small and a rather cosy fit for three.

Rolling her eyes, the waitress grabs at the blonde's waist firmly and yanks her down with a gleeful grunt, the Sheriff landing ungracefully half on and half off the younger woman's lap whilst wedged uncomfortably against the side of the sofa. Glaring at the schoolteacher as Mary Margaret chuckles at her expense, she and Ruby wriggle around so that Emma's ass no longer presses up against the brunette's hip.

"So what _are_ we watching then?"

"Snow White."

"...Seriously?"

Mary Margaret laughs at the look of pure disgust her housemate offers the screen and pulls down a throw from the back of the sofa and pulls it over the three of them.

"It's the new one, Snow White and the Huntsman, it's not quite so 'Disney'... You never know, you might like it! It's supposed to be good..."

"I just can't fucking stand fairytales."

"Just think of it as homework! Henry will be thrilled you're doing a bit of 'research'!"

"Research?"

The brunette looks to the other two curiously and Emma shakes her head.

"Never mind. Look, I _know_ the story of Snow White, okay, same as I know pretty much all the other stories. I just hate the whole princess business, and the macho guys that fuck everything up and the sickening morals! 'Be good. Be nice. Be virtuous'... How about you shut the fuck up Cinderella and concentrate on getting some shoes that fit! If the damn slipper _only_ fit _her_ foot- and don't get me started on _that_- then why the hell did it fall off in the first place?! I mean- what... Why are you looking at me like that? Stop laughing!"

She reaches across the waitress and jabs the raven headed woman in the ribs, causing Mary Margaret to cry out in a mixture of pain and laughter. Gathering herself slightly, the schoolteacher offers the blonde a grin as she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, I've just never seen you get quite so passionate about something before. It's just a movie, Emma."

"I know! I just... Okay, here's the thing. You have your decent fairytales; your Pocahontas, your Mulan, your Hercules, where the women aren't all running around acting like idiots and waiting for some asshole to come save them. Then you have your mind-numbingly annoying ones featuring your damsels in distress; your Sleeping Beauty, your Cinderella, your Snow White."

"Oh, I don't know, I think there's something quite _beautiful_ about those stories."

"Well now there's a surprise-"

"-It's not a case of the women being 'idiots', it's about their belief and their faith in true love and that it will see them through the obstacles they have to face."

"Yeah, uhuh, being idiots, that's what I said."

"Oh, Emma, you're such an ice queen!"

The waitress laughs, draping her arm merrily around the blonde's shoulders as the latter grumbles moodily beneath her breath.

"Just start the damned movie..."

"Ah! One sec! I'll go plate up the quiche! Sorry Ruby, I forgot."

"No worries!"

Ruby leans amiably into the Sheriff so that the schoolteacher can free herself from the confines of the sofa and giggles at the way the blonde subsequently veers away to the point of causing herself discomfort. Whispering quietly into golden tresses, the waitress grins as she allows the older woman a little more space.

"I can see why you like the Mayor, I imagine she's just as opposed to friendly physical contact as you are."

"Ruby!"

The brunette smirks at the venomous hiss in her ear but she rests her head momentarily on her friend's shoulder to express no intended cruelty. To her surprise, Emma's eyes flicker briefly over to assure her housemate's preoccupation with their dinner and she whispers back jovially enough.

"You have her all wrong, you know. Our good Madame Mayor isn't _completely_ impartial to a little sugar."

"Oh my _god_! Did you just even _say_ that!"

"Shh! I might have. But I'm not saying it again, so..."

"_Oh my god_! After the movie you _have_ to tell me more!"

"Nope. That's all you're getting."

"Emma..."

"Hey, I'm just defending the fact that she's not quite as, I dunno, 'cold' as she can come across..."

"Awww..."

"Oh, shut up!"

"Ha! I'm guessing _that's_ what drew you two together! Your icy exteriors and your acidic tongues!"

"Ruby, I mean it, enough! And... Hey!"

"Hey what?"

Mary Margaret enquires curiously as she returns to the sofa with three plates balanced precariously in her arms. The blonde and the brunette exchange a brief glance before the former shrugs and reaches out eagerly for her food.

"Nothing, Ruby's just under the impression that I have an 'acidic tongue'..."

"Well, that's just_ one_ of the things I have to say about your tongue given what- _Ah_!"

The waitress's eyes water as she massages her thigh where slim fingers have pinched bare flesh and she abruptly quits her muttering in the blonde's ear.

"Oh, grow up you two! Ruby, stop saying whatever it is your saying to Emma. Emma, stop pinching Ruby."

The raven headed woman admonishes with mock agitation as she depresses the 'play' button on the remote and squeezes herself back into her seat, pulling the throw back over the three of them as they eat and drink in attentive silence, the eery light of the television screen flickering over pale faces.

* * *

"Regina."

The Mayor freezes as she makes to take her keys out of her purse, her car a welcomed blockade between herself and the untrustworthy man that stands facing her on the pavement.

"Gold. What do you want?"

"Visiting the Sheriff at _home_ now are we? Business meetings not able to wait until morning?"

"How did you... Yes. As a matter of fact there_ were_ a few urgent matters Miss Swan needed to know about."

"I see..."

Flipping her hair back irritably, the brunette purses her lips and spits out her words poisonously.

"You 'see' what? If you have something to say, then say it. I need to get home to Henry."

"Ah yes, but of course. I would so hate to keep you from the ones you love."

"... Meaning?"

"Oh, nothing, dearie... I just find your trip to our lovely Sheriff's humble abode to be rather... fascinating... after our little conversation the other day."

"... You're still on that? Well, then, I'm afraid I'll have to tell you the same now as I told you then. I can not stand the woman. But, alas, she is the Sheriff, and there are certain communication requirements between herself and I."

"Spoken like a true politician."

"If you say so. Now, excuse me, I have no time for this, my son will be expecting dinner."

"I apologize. Once again it seems as though my words and mind have slipped away from me. I was merely on my way to visit Miss Swan and I suppose your presence surprised me. You take care now, Regina."

The Mayor offers a curt nod, but she finds herself unable to slip into the plush confines of her Benz. Dark eyes glittering fiercely she keeps her voice low and neutral but demanding.

"It seems Miss Swan is rather more popular this evening than one would believe she deserves. What did you want with her?"

"That's _my_ business, dearie... Why the curiosity?"

"A simple question, I assure you. Anyway, she has company, you'd be better off waiting till morning."

"Oh, it will take only a moment. I merely wish to remind her of our little... situation. I believe I might have found a befitting way for young Emma to repay her debt to me."

"Which is..."

Gold's eyes flash with glee as he studies the divine brunette as she struggles to maintain her poker face; the Mayor's hand gripping at her car door in a white-knuckled fist.

"As I said, that's_ my_ business. Go home to your boy now, he will be wanting his supper."

Regina regards the old pawnbroker levelly before opening the door to her car fully with a sniff. Dark eyes blazing, she warns him darkly.

"Well, whatever your business may be with her... Understand this; if any harm comes to Miss Swan as a result of this 'deal' you have made with her... You _will_ be held accountable... And I'm telling you that as the Mayor speaking in regards to this town's Sheriff, before you jump to any of your fanciful ideas."

"Ooh, your anger! It's giving me _shivers,_ dearie!"

"... Then I suggest you_ think_ about my anger and what I am capable of before you hobble up to that decrepit little flat, Gold. Good day."

Slipping into the dark leather interior of her car, she switches on the ignition and guides the vehicle smoothly on its way, her eyes cast up to the rearview mirror where she watches the little man's mouth form a hateful smile.


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N: **_I hope that with the way things have changed with these two that what happens at the end of this isn't too out of character. Enjoy! And please review!_

* * *

Waving goodbye to Henry as the small brunet makes his way up the path to Archie's office, the Mayor turns round to survey the street absently. Her dark eyes flicker towards the diner opposite but she swiftly looks away as Ruby trots outside to clear tables, not at all wishing to have anything to do with the young waitress. Glancing up at the clock tower, she muses that eleven in the morning is probably enough time for the Sheriff to have gotten herself up and out of bed despite it being a Saturday and sets off in the direction of her apartment. She wishes to see the blonde anyway, but she is anxious to know what became of Gold's visit the night before.

Entering Emma's apartment building, she makes her way swiftly up the stairs, wondering if Mary Margaret is still going to be flitting about, but guessing the schoolteacher is probably out with her own love interest.

_Let's not use that term again..._

Raising her hand to knock on the door, her breath catches in her throat as she notices several large chips gouged out of the wood around the handle. Leaning in to inspect a little closer, she realizes the door isn't completely shut at all, its lock hanging at a curious angle. Eyes flashing with a hateful sense of fear, she raps loudly at the door anyway, hoping she's just missing something blindingly obvious about the situation.

"Miss Swan?"

No response. Trying the door again, she beats her knuckles against flaking wood with a little more force, causing the door to creak open of its own accord. Swallowing, she steps hesitantly across the threshold, scanning the room fearfully before letting out a sharp gasp as she spies the blonde lying strewn out on the sofa. Hurrying over, Regina barks out the younger woman's name pleadingly but garners no reaction. Leaning over the Sheriff, the brunette shakes her by the shoulder urgently, letting out a high-pitched cry as the latter jerks with a start and scrambles away in a flurry of flailing limbs, her hand making painful contact with the Mayor's cheek.

"_Ah_!"

"R-Regina? What the hell are you doing?!"

Emma cries throatily, yanking her small black earphones out and regarding the older woman incredulously as she strives to ease her rapid breathing.

"_Me_? What on earth are_ you_ doing?! What happened to your door?! And turn down your music, you'll go deaf!"

Disdainful anger camouflages her previous fear and she stands with her hands on her hips glaring down at the blonde irritably.

"My door? Oh! Yeah... About that... I kind of locked myself out after going for breakfast with Mary Margaret. I tried calling her for the keys but I think she's in the woods and-"

"-_You_ did that!?"

The brunette points over to the door increadulously and the Sheriff nods with an uneasy shrug.

"It's just the lock that's busted, I'll replace it later... Why are you so pissed?"

"I'm not, I'm just astounded by your stupidity!"

Regina sniffs, but she takes a seat primly beside the blonde and offers her an amiable smirk as the younger woman moves round to face her with a sigh.

"It's fine, Regina, and anyway, I'm the Sheriff! No one's gonna break in here!"

"Yes, because you really instill that much fear in the people, dear."

"They have no idea what I'm capable of!"

"Is that so?"

Scarlet lips twitch with amusement and the brunette flicks her hair back coyly.

"What did you want, anyway?"

"I was wondering about your little visit last night?"

"... Oh. Well, it was fun..."

Emma replies tersely, not entirely comfortable that the older woman should think it her place to waltz into her apartment to more or less check up on her for time spent with other people. She raises an eyebrow curiously when the brunette proceeds to greet this statement with a frown.

"Fun?"

"... Yeah... I mean what do you _want_ me to say? We drank wine, ate food and watched a movie... I like all of those things so-"

"-That's not exactly the visit to which I was referring, dear."

"Oh... Then... what?"

"Gold didn't come up here to talk to you?"

"No... Why would he?"

"When I left he... Never mind..."

"...Okay?..."

"I'm glad you had fun though, with the others."

Regina offers a small smile and the Sheriff beams at her brightly, stretching out cattily before padding to the fridge.

"Juice? It's freshly squeezed."

"Please."

The brunette sits back and watches amiably as the younger woman fetches a large jug thick with chilly condensation from the fridge and pours out two small glasses of orange juice. As she turns to replace the jug, she pauses for a second, her attention lost on the calendar that hangs up on the fridge as a way for the two women living in the flat to have a vague idea whether to expect the other home. The Mayor raises an eyebrow when Emma remains seemingly transfixed and clears her throat. Coming out of her trance, the blonde shakes her long curls abruptly and pads over with the twin glasses of juice in her hands.

"Something wrong?"

Regina nods towards the calendar and frowns when the Sheriff lowers her gaze to appear suddenly engrossed in her jeans.

"Emma?"

"No... It's just... Can I ask what you're planning for next week?"

"Next week?"

"Henry's birthday..."

"Henry's birthday isn't next... Oh."

The brunette sighs awkwardly and sips at her juice.

"We celebrate Henry's birthday on the 27th, it's when I was blessed with him."

"Oh."

"It seemed like the most sensical date."

"Yeah, no, I get it.

"Usually he and I will go out for a meal..."

"Cool."

"It's tradition."

"Yeah."

Regina watches neutrally as the blonde looks away uncomfortably. Clearing her throat, she raises an eyebrow when Emma turns to look up at her hopefully.

"Do you think, maybe-"

"-You can't come... It will look suspicious and... you just... I-"

"-You don't want me to."

"No."

The brunette purses her lips as she nods in agreement, hating this. Hating that despite her feelings for the younger woman, there is the subject of Henry that exists between them, and she just can't quite allow it to be resolved. Nevertheless, she doesn't think she can stand the look that currently graces the Sheriff's fine features for much longer.

"Miss Swan... Seeing as I am more than aware that Henry pays you visits all the damn time when he's not supposed to... I suppose if he were to do so on the 5th... Well..."

"That would be okay with you?"

"...No. But I'll allow it."

Raising slowly, Emma offers the Mayor an intense look before moving to slip onto her lap, straddling slim thighs lightly. Brushing her fingers gently through chocolate tresses, she places as delicate kiss on scarlet lips before simply leaning forwards and wrapping her arms round the older woman's neck.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"...Does... does Henry even know that that's his birthday?"

"...No. He's never actually asked."

"Oh."

"I suppose... I suppose he'll know once you tell him."

"I don't have to..."

"...What?"

The blonde sits back, and the Mayor is slightly alarmed to see that her cheeks glisten wetly with tear tracks. Rubbing them away, self consciously, Emma shrugs lightly and offers a small smile.

"I just want to spend time with him on that day... I don't need him to know why if you don't want."

"Miss Swan... Emma... You can tell him whatever you wish to tell him as to why he's there. Just don't spoil him with gifts. Don't... I don't know."

"I don't even know what to get him..."

"Dear, I'm understanding... But that's taking it a little too far. I'm not helping you pick out a gift."

"I didn't mean... I wasn't-"

"- But I suppose it does me no harm in telling you Henry is rather partial to homemade chocolate cake. I fear I am not so adept at baking this to his liking... I would think the amount of sugar and junk you will inevitably put in your cooking will be much more to his taste..."

She grins despite herself as soft lips press against her own, and plays with silken curls gently in her hands. Pulling Emma flush, she wraps her arms around the younger woman's small waist and keeps her there, even when salted tears taint sweet lips bitterly.

_I can't believe I'm allowing this..._

"I... Thank you..."

"Stop saying that, I'll change my mind."

Regina chuckles as she feels the Sheriff tense immediately in her lap and pushes the younger woman suddenly off of her to sprawl on the sofa. Repositioning herself to lie atop the wide-eyed blonde, she smirks at the way Emma sniffs irritably, trying to hide her emotions now that her face has come back into view.

"Thank you."

Pink tongue darting out mischievously between white teeth and the Mayor punishes her swiftly with her own. Plucking at the material of the Sheriff's cotton shirt, all thoughts of Gold's threat are momentarily forgotten as the front door wavers ever so slightly back and forth on its broken latch.


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N: **_Before you guys read this chapter, I will hasten to explain that Rumplestiltkin is one of may absolute favourite characters on the show, but he does lend himself to act a a brilliant antagonist when writing which is how I shall use him in this fic. So for anyone rooting for Gold who is annoyed by this, YES, I love him also, but I needed to focus on his bad side as I still think/ hope (!?) this is a realistical situation. _

_Also. I am intrigued as to what you guys think on this! I have always been very confused by the last episode of series one pertaining to the curse. I understand that Emma's kiss woke Henry from his own, personal curse, but I have never understood the intricacies of how this then caused the main curse to break. I have tried to approach this as best as I could here, but I would be super interested to hear feedback on what you all think/ feel about that episode or the curse in general!_

* * *

Dark eyes flash with curiosity as the old pawnbroker catches a small shadow of movement as he makes his way up the stairs.

He had taken heed of the Mayor's suggestion to leave the Sheriff to her own devices the previous evening, not for the sake of adhering to the brunette's wishes, but rather because he needs to speak to the blonde alone. Hoping to catch her thusly this morning, he has made his way over to the crumbling apartment block under the dull haze of the winter sun.

Now, as he frowns at the Sheriff's front door which appears rather more worse for wear than usual, he is surprised to find that with each step he takes towards her apartment, the battered wood sways ever so slightly on its hinges. Creeping closer, his brow furrows as he detects the dull murmur of voices from inside. He recognizes both the low, deceptively bored sounding drawl and the rich, soothing voice coming from behind the door despite both women speaking surprisingly quietly and saying uncharacteristically little.

"Yet another business meeting, dearie?"

He mutters beneath his breath, moving to stand against the door and pushing the painted wood slyly open to peer through the crack. What he sees has him taking in a low gasp as his eyebrows rise high in surprise. Stepping away from the door, he leans against the wall to gather himself, a slow smile finding his dry lips.

He had harbored his suspicions, true- fed greatly by the reactions from both of the women in question- but to see it with his own eyes is something else entirely. To see the usually stoic blonde who seems to_ strive_ to give off the impression she'd happily punch in the face of any brave enough to try touching her sat so sweetly on the Mayor's lap; a woman who, yes, oozes sex appeal, yet seems so barren of any token of affection. To see well-manicured hands play so gently through soft curls as the younger woman had leant so tellingly forward.

A car outside the Mayor's house so late at night could suggest a relationship of a sexual nature.

The brunette leaving the Sheriff's apartment with her lipstick delicately smeared as she smiles ever so smugly could easily suggest the same.

What he has seen, peering silently through the battered door, however, is more than he would have hoped for. Evidently, a relationship of a sexual nature _does_ exist between the two, and this in itself is something he finds beautifully amusing. But it is more than that.

So much more.

And this is what he repeats to himself with a knowing smile as he makes his way back to his shop.

* * *

"Perfect."

Gold smiles as he stirs sweet sugar into his tea, but whether this quiet exclamation is directed towards his cup or his newfound knowledge is unclear. Taking a seat behind his eclectically cluttered workbench, he sips at his drink thoughtfully while tapping his cane lightly with his blunt-nailed fingers.

He has pondered on the deal made with the Sheriff a great deal since that eventful day in the hospital, his mind churning with the possibilities of what 'favor' he may request from her. He is loathe to admit that there have been the odd occasions when he has found himself bored and excruciatingly lonely, and on such evenings, a part of him- a very particular part of him- has entertained the idea of simply requesting she come over and demanding a very physical return of her favor right then and there. Such is not his true nature, however, and despite what others may think of him- in Storybrooke and back in that other land, that better land- the thought of following through with such a cruel and vulgar demand leaves him hatefully disgusted.

He likes the Swan woman.

She interests him, and her somewhat gritty personality has the ability to earn her a smile from him. Sometimes in jest, sometimes at her expense. Either way, he is ashamed by his infrequent late night lust for just, well, _fucking_ her, and, deal or no deal, he is under no illusion that she would comply willingly...

_That's what could make it fun. The power..._

No. He shakes his head. With the new information his spying has gleaned, the blonde is far too valuable to ruin in such a way.

After all, his main remorse following his altercation with Emma had been coming to the realization that while she possesses some of the tools he needs in his ultimate quest, she doesn't possess _all_ of them, and without the ability to give him what he needs to send her off on her mission, she is useless to him.

Or so he had thought.

The blonde is unable to use magic, doesn't believe in magic, won't entertain the _existence_ of magic, and while this is rather amusing in its own twisted way, he n_eeds_ magic in order to locate the thing- the one- whom he wishes her to seek out.

And thus, enter Regina.

When they had first come to this wretched town, his plea to her had been frequent and in earnest, and while he had quickly found that their previous arrangement stood strong- the brunette forced to heed his every command without her consent- the deal seemed only to pertain to the happenings within Storybrooke itself. With his son beyond the town line, any request involving Bae fell on deaf ears.

Until now.

Now, he has leverage. Now she has a weakness.

He had indulged the thought previously of using the boy as a means of threatening the Mayor. To hold Henry to ransom in demands that she break the curse and use her power to locate his son. Alas, the endeavor to threaten Henry had previously been pointless; the curse having been crafted-of his own design- to require a savior- _the _savior- to break it.

To be Regina's undoing.

He has worked hard since the blonde's arrival to condition her in such a way that she may succeed in her task, but Emma has proven a victim of the unfavorable circumstance of her upbringing and more difficult than he had first foreseen. Her inability to comprehend what is right in front of her nose is almost laughable in its ridiculousness.

He had thought after what had happened to Graham, Henry would be able to convince her, but _still_ she had clung desperately to what she had- understandably- perceived as sanity.

"So stubborn, dearie, so hard, so brittle like glass. Well glass can be shattered Miss Swan. Oh yes it can."

And, there are two ways in which the curse can be broken. In which he will get what he desires. Polar opposites: life and death.

And hasn't he always just marveled at the beauty of it.

Either true love will break the curse, giving life to the young blonde who up until now has hardly been 'living' but merely surviving; an invisible burden on her shoulders she doesn't even know exists. Gold muses that this would indeed be the more appealing of the two options, the more intricate and beautiful in its design. However, he finds it hard not to put more faith in the other option, as, while bearing little of the grace and fantastical qualities of the first, it will work just as well.

The savior loves or the savior dies.

Both will break the curse.

But with the latter, there is a good chance he himself will fall victim to Regina's wrath if she manages to best him. It is not a possibility he believes likely, but it _is_ a possibility.

And that simply won't do.

No, he needs the blonde alive, he accepts this now. To assure him safety to do what must be done... And for a much simpler reason.

She knows about the outside world.

She knows about the world in which his son resides.

Killing her would be detrimental to his cause.

Using her, however...

He is afraid to touch the boy.

But his mother...

He likes the blonde well enough, but has no issue in using her if it will garner the Mayor's attention. If he has her attention, perhaps the cards may finally become stacked in his favor.

He_ needs_ her attention.


	56. Chapter 56

**A/N: **_A bit of a random chapter, but I've had a few messages asking if I could do more of Emma's side as most of the 'thoughts' tend to be Regina's in this fic. This chapter revolves more around Henry and that whole situation than their sexual relationship but I hope the mentions of Regina act as an indicator to Emma's thoughts on the two of them. For some reason I just find it harder to find places to add her actual thinking process as it just seems to suit Regina more when I'm writing... I'm rambling, I'll stop. Enjoy! And, you know, please review :)_

* * *

"So have you told Henry, or not?"

The waitress enquires, laughing as Emma wrinkles her nose at the mess of dough that coats both the flour-dusted kitchen table and her hands.

"...I'm pretty sure we should have stuck to the recipe..."

"Oh, it'll be fine! Just put in some more flour or sugar."

"Flour _or_ sugar... Which one?!"

"I don't know, try a little of both?"

"... Jeez, I've really fucked this up, haven't I?"

"No you haven't, it's fine! It's just a bit goopy is all, here, give me a go with the whisk."

She butts the blonde out of the way with an amiable bump of her hip and goes about thickening the admittedly rather disastrously sticky cake batter in the way she has seen Granny do so many times. The Sheriff watches her absently, plucking up a packet of chocolate chips and shaking some out into her hand.

"You're sure you want to put in chocolate chips_ and_ M&Ms?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's a kid, kids like chocolate, right?"

"Right. In that case could you maybe not eat all of the ingredients before they go in?"

"I can't promise anything..."

Ruby glances up at the blonde and offers her a theatrical sigh before stealing a couple of chocolate chips from her unsuspecting palm and nibbling at them with a grin.

"Double standards, much, Ruby?"

"A good cook always checks her ingredients."

"So why is it not okay when I do that?"

"A bad cook eats an entire bag of chocolate chips- which, by the way, are _cooking _chocolate- and then complains that her cake is boring."

"Ah..."

"So have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Told Henry what tomorrow is?"

"Not yet... I think... I think he might have guessed... I'm not sure."

"Oh?"

"Well, when I called him on the walkie the other day I just asked if he wanted to come over tomorrow, but I guess I've never really 'booked out time in advance' before, and I'm pretty sure he knows the day he celebrates with Regina is the day he became hers because... Well... It's Regina. She's not gonna have decided to celebrate the day some other woman pushed a kid out of her."

"Maybe don't refer to it as that to Henry, it sounds painful."

"Oh, because in reality it's a piece of cake?"

"I wouldn't know."

"It's not. Not a piece of cake at all. It's the _whole_ cake!... One big, bloody, screaming, painful cake."

"Lovely."

"Wrong again."

Ruby laughs, opening up a packet of M&Ms and shaking them out to stud the batter colorfully. Mixing them in, she pours the mixture out into a cake tin and bends down to put it in the oven. Smiling at the blonde who stands staring pensively into space, she pokes her gently with a red-nailed finger to get her attention.

"Bowl or spoon?"

"Huh?"

"Which do you want?"

"Uhhh..."

The brunette rolls her eyes as the Sheriff leans over the dirty implements to inspect which of the two promises the better haul and plucks up the spoon for herself as she tires of waiting.

"Rookie mistake."

"I can't help but feel I don't take my batter-licking as seriously as you do..."

"I'm hungry!"

"You are not! There is no _possible_ way you could be hungry. I bought you a sandwich like an hour before you finished work, and you've just eaten the majority of a bag of chocolate chips!"

"I don't remember asking you to keep tags, and I'm just giving you the facts. I'm hungry. And this is good!"

She swipes her finger through the sticky batter that coats the bowl and grins at the waitress. Ruby smirks back sweetly, her lips closed around the spoon, and shakes her head.

"So are you going to just wait till he mentions it? Or like..."

"Well the cake and card will probably give it away."

"Where's the card?"

"Up in my room, and no, you can't see it."

"Aw, _come on_! What did you write? Why can't I see it?"

"Because... It's embarrassing... And it's for Henry... And... Look, I don't know. I'm shit at this whole business, and I went to the store to get one and they were all just _hideous_ so I figured that as I was sat at work and nothing was really going on I'd try and draw something... Though now I think maybe I should just buy one anyway... A kid's not gonna care that it's soppy and contrived, right? Not if there's cake?"

"Probably not, but _your_ kid _is_ gonna care that you drew him a card! He'll love it!"

"Well, we'll see if he can figure out what it's supposed to_ be_ first... I most definitely peaked with my artistic talent at the age of about five."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"One day I'll draw you a portrait and force you to hang it above your bed and you'll see just how wrong you are."

"I'd like that."

"We'll see."

"And I meant more as in... Are you going to tell Henry it's his birthday before presenting him with very obvious pointers, like, so that he can talk about it if he wants."

"... You think I should?"

"I think it's a bit weird to just hand the boy a card and say 'oh, by the way, kid'... Even if you _do_ think he's figured it out."

"I guess."

"How come you don't want to? I thought you were super excited about all this?"

"I am, it's just... One day Henry's going to ask me why I gave him up- hell, ask my why I was in _jail_!- and he's not going to just accept the answer 'it was for the best' anymore... Talking about his birthday seems like a pretty good time for him to bring that shit up..."

"Yes, and one day _you're_ going to have to just accept that he needs to know. Don't _you_ want to ask your parents the same thing?"

"That's _so_ not the same thing, Ruby, I-"

"- I never said it was. Relax. You just need to accept that Henry has a right to know about _you_, not just what he figures out and what little you tell him. You're his mother. Besides, I don't know how things work with your... thing... with Regina now, but you _have_ to think she's filled his head with a fair few unflattering stories and theories about you? Before you guys... You know?"

"I dunno... I guess that article about me having him in jail wasn't the best thing ever to happen to our relationship... I'm not sure what she told him... I'm not so sure he'd take much notice to be honest."

"Well, I guess that's good."

"Is it? She's his _mother_, like, his everyday, all the time mother. He should listen to her more..."

"...I guess..."

Ruby shrugs awkwardly, not entirely sure which side of the conversation to take. She wants to take Emma's side, whatever that is. The problem is that the blonde seems rather unsure of whether or not she wants to take her _own_ side.

"Look, why don't you just call him on the walkie and tell him. All you need to do is ask him if he knows what tomorrow is, explain it's a special occasion, and tell him the truth: That you wanted to spend the day with him on his birthday. If he has questions, you'll answer them. You're not as bad at talking to people as you think, you know."

"... I know_ several_ people that would beg to differ with you on that one."

"Nah, I think maybe other people just aren't very good at actually _listening_ to you."

The Sheriff chuckles before looking down awkwardly when the brunette simply smiles at her; realizing Ruby's words were meant seriously. Shrugging, she sighs and places the empty bowl in the sink to soak.

"I lied to him about his dad you know."

"...Why, what did you say?"

"That he died. That he was a good guy."

"... And... He's not dead?"

"He _could_ be for all I fucking know. He wasn't a good guy."

"... I'm sorry. Do you want to-"

"-No."

"Okay. Well... I dunno... I guess if it comes up, it's a good chance to explain you didn't tell him the truth... If it doesn't come up, I'd maybe not choose his birthday as the time to tell him... You have to at some point, though."

"I know."

"Have you told Regina?"

"That I lied to Henry?"

"Well, yes, but have you told her why?"

"It hasn't come up."

"Well, if she's the way you say she is... If you don't think she'll use it against you, I mean... Maybe you should tell her."

"Why?"

"Because. It'll be like a trial run for if Henry asks you, and without prying, I get the feeling that your reasoning behind disliking the guy is possibly of an adult nature and _definitely_ more close to home than you like to get. I would tell you to talk to Mary Margaret- or me- but I can see from the look on your face just _mentioning_ it you don't want to. So tell Regina. Things always seem suddenly much less awful once you share them with someone, Emma."

"I... I guess... How the fuck did _you_ get to be so wise all of a sudden anyway?"

"No idea, but could you please use that term to describe me next time you see Granny?! Hell, next time you see anyone! People think I'm such a joke."

"Maybe they're just not _listening_ to you well enough?"

Ruby swats at the Sheriff with an amiable scowl as the latter smirks gleefully back at her.

"You're hopeless!"

"True. In fact, only _one_ thing is currently keeping me going."

"What's that?"

"Ten minutes till the cake is ready."

"Hopeless."

Emma laughs as she pads over to the fridge and pulls out a beer. Offering it to the brunette, she points the younger woman in the direction of the bottle opener and grabs another for herself. She glances over at the table where a couple of plastic bags sit pulled open with their contents spread about in disarray. She had called on the brunette to discuss her current circumstances as her housemate had texted to let her know she was stopping by to see David after finishing up at school. True to her nature, Ruby then sweetly overcompensated to the extreme, bringing with her several different colors and lengths of streamers, a variety of balloons, and several cardboard sheets that when interlocked together create a castle-themed centerpiece.

"This is pretty neat, actually."

The Sheriff folds the pieces together, propping the- slightly wonky- finished product up on the kitchen island with a grin.

"Are you two playing make believe? How sweet!"

Emma and Ruby jump in surprised unison, turing round to spy Mary Margaret wrestling with her coat in the doorway.

"You scared the_ shit_ out of me! We need to get that door fixed..."

"Stop with the swearing all the time, and the door wouldn't_ need_ fixing if _someone_ hadn't decided to use the fire extinguisher to try and break the door down..."

"Now who could that have been?"

"They sound like an idiot."

Ruby ducks as a hand comes up to smack her over the head, giggling. Shaking her head in mock bemusement, the schoolteacher makes her way over to the table to inspect the various party decorations.

"You're going to do up the place?"

"I don't know... I haven't decided yet..."

"What Emma's trying to say is '_yes_', yes she is, and as you can see, she can barely _contain_ her excitement!"

"Clearly. What's wrong? How come you don't know if you want to do it?"

"I _do_ want to, I'm just bad at this kind of thing, like, I just don't know if an eleven year old boy wants bright yellow streamers... Maybe he'll think it's stupid?"

"Henry won't find anything you do stupid, Emma, and besides, just look at it as making up for eleven year's worth of tacky decorations for kid's parties."

"Right."

The blonde mutters quietly, suddenly engrossed in her beer as her jaw clenches visibly. Mary Margaret throws a panicked glance to Ruby who nibbles her lip awkwardly, before clearing her addressing her mistake hurriedly.

"Oh, Emma, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry!"

"It's fine."

"It's not! It's quite clearly not! Could you please just look at me? I _really_ didn't mean for it to sound that way..."

"Okay."

The raven headed woman sighs as her housemate slips past her with a moody shrug, turning to watch defeatedly as the blonde busies herself inspecting the broken lock as though she has any clue how to fix it. Turning back towards Ruby, she mouths silently

"I really didn't mean it like that..."

Her brow furrowed anxiously. The waitress smiles kindly, mouthing back

"She knows that, really."

"You guys want to get pizza tonight?"

The two darker haired women turn towards the Sheriff as the blonde's tone is carefully expressionless. Accepting the question as a silent declaration of truce, Mary Margaret agrees gratefully, before enquiring whether or not the brunette is needed back at the diner.

"I'll stay for a slice if you guys are sharing."

"Emma doesn't share."

"Nope."

"I'll give you a slice, though"

"I bet that's what you tell all the boys."

The schoolteacher's cheeks pinken as she regards the other two in bemusement as they crack up merrily. Shaking her head, she makes her way over to the fridge and helps herself to a glass of wine.

"Oh, it's going to be a long night."

Her air of disdain is short lived however; inwardly so pleasantly surprised at how things have blossomed amongst the three of them. She has always had a lot of time for the young waitress- feeling oddly drawn to her despite their vastly different personalities- and the way Ruby brings out her housemate's lighter side is a definite plus.

Regardless of whether or not it results in her being teased long into the early hours of the morning.

"Emma, go call in the order, Ruby and I will clear the table and rescue your cake."

"The cake!"

"It's fine! Just call up before it gets late and busy."

Nodding her agreement, the blonde pads over to her bag which lies forlorn on the sofa and rummages around for her phone; the pizza place's number saved in her contact list. Noticing the small, green text message notification symbol, she opens it up curiously, a small smile touching the corners of her mouth.

_'I haven't heard any sirens, so I trust your kitchen is still in tact. Cheating with a shop bought cake, dear?'_

Rolling her eyes, she types back quickly, trying to keep herself from grinning.

_'How dare you?! No. Cake is fine. Batter was good. Very messy, but it will be tasty. I hope. E'_

Pressing 'send' she scrolls quickly to her contacts and places her order, green eyes flashing as a telling beep pierces harshly in her ear as she speaks. Hanging up, she opens up the new message and lets out an incredulous laugh, blushing furiously.

_'Messy and tasty? Are you trying to seduce me, Sheriff? I'll leave you to clean your dirty self up as I am sadly otherwise engaged. Sleep Well. X'_

Pocketing her phone, Emma grins sheepishly, before waltzing up to the dining table and wedging herself happily between her two companions, declaring happily

"Fuck it, let's put up the streamers."


	57. Chapter 57

"Good morning, Miss Blanchard, you're looking well."

"Am I?"

The schoolteacher frowns warily as she slows her pace so as not to rudely snub Gold, however much she may want to.

"Indeed."

"Well... Thank you... Did you want something?"

"Oh, no, just a friendly good morning, dearie. I am after young Emma if you'd know her whereabouts? I have something for her."

"Oh?... Well, she's working from home today... Do you want me to give whatever it is to her?"

"Ah yes, working from home, I remember now. Oh well, no need to trouble yourself, it can wait."

"What is it?"

"My my, aren't we curious? The Sheriff merely enquired whether I would happen to know of a locksmith that wouldn't charge an extortionate amount when he found out two young women without a clue on the trade were his clients."

"She did?"

"Indeed. You _are _still experiencing problems with your lock I presume, Miss Blanchard?"

"Yes, sorry, a locksmith would be very helpful, I just didn't realize Emma had actually done anything about it. Why don't you just give me the number? I'll call them when the children go out to play."

"Of course."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a scrap of paper, inwardly thanking his impeccable capacity for forward planning. He has indeed scribbled down the name and number of a local locksmith, but whether the young man is any good or not he has no clue. He merely plucked the name out of city records that morning as an afterthought before waiting patiently at the crossroads between the school and Mary Margaret's.

"Well, I better be going, but thank you for looking into this for us."

She pockets the scrap of paper, giving a brief nod, before hurrying on her way, feeling inexplicably relieved once she turns the corner and knows Gold's dark eyes are no longer resting hatefully upon her.

"You're welcome, dearie."

He mutters quietly before turning back the way he came and making his was towards his shop. Once he reaches the dusky old building, he carries on, however, continuing up the path that leads to the schoolteacher's apartment building.

* * *

"Oh, fuck off."

The blonde grumbles as down below she hears the door whine irritatingly on its hinges. She scolds herself for not getting the damn thing sorted, but supposes she may have time tomorrow before work. Today is about Henry, and she refuses to spend time bothering with such unimportant things.

Pulling her hair back into twin clips at the sides, she glances at herself in the mirror awkwardly. She isn't entirely sure what the hell she's gone for with her attire today, but she supposes the end result isn't as awful as it could have been. She had wanted to dress nice- the notion a little too similar to her dreaded first days at high school for her liking- but is out of practice.

"Oh please, when were you ever _in_ practice."

Pulling at the soft white cotton of the sundress she had offered the Mayor all that time ago, she supposes she looks rather childlike herself as she's coupled it with light gray woolen tights due to the winter weather and a large, charcoal gray cardigan, but as today is just herself and Henry, she decides it doesn't matter.

She usually dislikes wearing dresses for many reasons, one of which is that they make her look shorter than she actually is. Her height is something about which she has always been secretly proud, as it allows her the benefit of rarely having to look submissively up at people.

_So, Regina is being referred to as 'people' now?_

She grins sheepishly, pulling her hair out the way so as to fix the clasp on her necklace in place.

_No. Regina is not just 'people'... _

Turing to her small bedside cabinet and searching through the crap that resides in its narrow drawer, she eventually finds what she's looking for and plucks it from the chaos deftly. Unscrewing the small tube of mascara, she leans forwards towards the mirror and applies it carefully to her already quite sooty lashes, frowning as down below the door gives yet another whine, this one louder than the rest.

Cocking her head to the side, she waits, listening intently before shrugging off the notion that the sound must have come from the door actually being opened. When she had checked for mail this morning, she had found the window that lines the staircase wide open- an annoying habit of one of their neighbors who seems to have little idea that it is still winter- and had grumbled irritably when she hadn't been able to shimmy it shut. The resulting draft has been having a maddening affect on the door, and she assumes this is what now causes the hinges to screech audibly.

Tossing the mascara back into the drawer, she pulls out the small, handmade envelope that rests beneath her glasses on the nightstand and pockets it. Switching off her bedroom light, she makes her way swiftly down the stairs, securing one of the bobby pins that hold the hair away from her face as she goes.

Frowning at the front door which now stands wide open, she pads over to close it lightly on woolen stockinged feet, never thinking to glance behind her to check the small kitchenette where a dark shadow flashes from behind the centre island slyly.

* * *

Regina frowns as she glances up from her desk and watches Henry trudge up the ample driveway and disappear beneath the cover of the porch. Her brow furrows deeper when she hears first the dull slam of the front door, followed a few moments later by a louder slam from upstairs. Tapping her nails against the tabletop pensively, she pushes herself from her seat and makes her way up to his bedroom.

"Henry?"

"What?"

"Pardon, not 'what'...What is it? I thought you were going over to Emma's today?"

"So did I."

The boy grumbles angrily, but the bright moisture glistening in his eyes is all too telling. Moving to perch gently on her son's bed, the Mayor raises an eyebrow as she requests he elaborate.

"What happened?"

"She's not home. I waited for like an hour, and I called her but she didn't pick up. I guess she didn't want to... to spend time with me today after all."

Regina sighs as she pulls the young brunet gently into her arms, surprised that he allows her to do so and subsequently furious at the blonde for ruining a chance for which she should be damned grateful.

"Maybe something came up, Henry... She _is_ the Sheriff... Someone might have called in an emergency..."

"No they didn't. She just got scared of seeing me because it's my birthday, and, and-"

"... Oh, Henry, I'm sure that's not true... She told you it was your birthday?"

"N-no, but it is, I know it is... And I... I"

The Mayor frowns angrily as the boy moves to bury his face into her chest, stroking his soft locks soothingly. Her heart beats rapidly and her stomach churns in a sickening way. She is furious, both at the Sheriff, and at herself for thinking Emma could take on something like this without screwing it up. She should have never allowed the younger woman the chance in the first place.

Beneath her anger though, and beneath the hateful feeling of 'I told you so' she feels towards what she now realizes should have been a painfully predictable case of cold feet, she feels another emotion. A bleaker emotion.

Fear.

She knows Emma well enough to know that although the blonde wouldn't purposefuly let the boy down, the chaotic mess of crap she carries around in her own head is a logical pointer that she simply woke up and couldn't handle the day.

She doesn't think that's_ it_ though.

The Sheriff had been so excited.

And admitted she was nervous; something which the brunette muses she had a hard time doing.

She had asked for this.

Actually_ cried_ over it.

And something about the younger woman being missing seems very wrong indeed.


	58. Chapter 58

**A/N: **_Ok, I know I only JUST uploaded, but as you are all so super and the last chapter was kind of short... Voila! I'm not usually a fan of 'earlier'/ 'later' pieces, but I wasn't sure how else to do this, so hopefully it's not too bad. :)_

* * *

EARLIER:

Gold hisses through his teeth as a sharp elbow jabs painfully into his side, growling furiously into the blonde's hair as she stamps down mercilessly on his foot. She wears only her ridiculously innocent woolen tights however, and despite her irritable height advantage and surprising strength, she is slight, and her struggling is quickly dampened as the cloying concoction that wets the handkerchief he holds over her mouth and nose takes effect.

Catching her easily around the waist as she slumps backwards into his arms, the old pawnbroker lowers her to the floor carefully before standing up straight and massaging his ribs tenderly, sure that the Sheriff's brief surge of retaliation will leave a colorful bruise.

"Bad girl, Emma."

He inspects her curiously as she lies unconscious on the hard wood floor, smirking at her uncharacteristic attire in a not wholly unfriendly manner; enjoying the way her oversized cardigan and childish woolen tights make her look much younger, much more vulnerable than he is used to seeing her. This, coupled with the soft white dress and the girlish pull of her hair make this all seem so much easier somehow. She is his little girl to toy with, to conduct- he has always thought of her this way, long before meeting the grown up, feisty, contrary young woman she has become- and her current attire is simply a pleasing visual depiction to her role.

"Charming, lovey."

He grins gleefully at the irony of his words before snooping briefly about her kitchen in mere curiosity. Opening the fridge, he raises an eyebrow at the large chocolate cake that takes pride of place amongst various other groceries. The words 'Happy Birthday Henry' have been painstakingly iced in blue on top and he marvels at the blonde's handwriting. The way others write has always been somewhat of a private fascination, having come to the conclusion that the way his clients signed their names back in that other land was greatly telling to their character. The Sheriff's writing is spiky and complicated, not easily legible, but with a subtle hint of delicacy to the way she finishes off the 'y's and an unusual curve to the tail of her 'd' which is curiously hyper-feminine.

"Happy birthday indeed."

He murmurs quietly as he takes the cake and deposits it reluctantly into the trash. To do so is a necessity, and as he goes about pulling down various streamers and balloons he mutters to himself that doing this is the same also. He doesn't think what he feels as he deftly pops the balloons in his hands to nothing but shriveled rubber is strong enough to be called remorse, but he is aware that whatever the feeling may be is a negative one. If it were possible to do this in another way and allow the boy his one day with the blonde, he would do so, but alas, it must happen like this.

For it is today that will most likely garner the brunette's attention should she imagine the Sheriff to be missing.

He needs the boy's reaction to be one of anger or pain to allow him the time to sort out the finalities of his plan. Should Henry arrive at the apartment and think something to be amiss at the blonde's absence despite her clear effort to decorate and celebrate, he is unsure he will have time to get her located where he needs her; Henry likely to call upon the waitress, the schoolteacher or his mother in fear that something has happened to the Sheriff. He needs the boy to believe Emma has simply stood him up, hopefully causing him to hang about in case she shows up, before heading home or to the diner on foot and refraining from prematurely alerting any of the troublesome women who may get in the way.

He imagines the Mayor's initial reaction when finding her son in what will presumably be a rather fragile state will be anger at the Sheriff, but is relying on her coming to the conclusion at some point over the next few days that something is amiss. He hopes it will be sooner rather than later, not just because of his yearning ache to get things started, but also because he doesn't much like the idea of keeping Emma subdued for a long period of time.

"What will be, will be."

He confides in the young woman at his feet companionably, before bending down to pull her up. He tugs at her hands so that she rises into a seated position, her head hung back to expose her throat vulnerably as her long hair ghosts over the uneven floorboards. Struggling to maneuver her into a more compliant position, Gold eventually manages to hoist her over his shoulder with a grunt of exertion, his weak leg trembling dangerously.

"Thank god you're but a small lass, eh, dearie."

Shifting the blonde's dead weight until he is sure he has her held securely he moves towards the door, his hand up beneath her dress resting on soft wool as he cups her ass to keep her in place.

"Sorry, Sheriff."

Creeping slowly out into the hallway, he listens intently for any signs of life before determining it safe to journey downstairs. He moves carefully, aware it would be easier to simply drag the young woman along by the hands but not wanting to batter her about unnecessarily.

After all, this is purely business.

Reaching the front door to the apartment building, he hesitates, peering through the dirty glass pane to check the street before exiting swiftly to his car which waits directly in front of the door despite multiple signs banning the act. Pulling open the passenger side door, he deposits the Sheriff limply into the seat, taking the time to buckle her in as the street remains deserted, before limping round to the driver's side. Starting the engine, he speeds off towards his shop, his right hand gently keeping the blonde's head from lolling painfully due to various bumps and potholes as he goes.

* * *

"Miss Swan?!"

Regina knocks on battered wood loudly despite the fact that the door wavers flimsily in its frame. Garnering no response, she promptly slams the door open and storms into the apartment angrily. Dark eyes flashing about her surroundings, she knows immediately that the blonde isn't home, but she marches swiftly over to the wrought iron staircase nevertheless.

Entering Emma's bedroom, she sighs irritably as it sits predictably empty. She frowns as she spies several discarded items of clothing strewn atop the blonde's narrow bed before leaning over the Sheriff's messy nightstand to inspect a number of discarded balls of paper. Inspecting one curiously, she unfurls it to realize that it is cut into the shape to form an envelope, but a jagged rip to one side suggests why it has ended up forlorn on the bedside table. There are five such crumpled items in total, each possessing a simple, minor flaw, and each branded with her son's name. Raising an eyebrow pensively, the brunette makes her way back downstairs.

She snoops about the apartment curiously, unable to shake the feeling that something feels decidedly off about the Sheriff's absence. Opening several of the cupboards, before randomly peering inside the fridge, her brow creases at a curiously empty space within around which groceries and cans have been purposefully shoved to the side.

"One or two beers last night, dear?"

It is a plausible explanation, but somehow doesn't feel right. Turning for the door, she frowns as she spots a flash of green from behind the sofa. Moving over, she bends down to pluck up a rather sorry looking balloon, half deflated and forgotten as it's rubber surface appears punctured on one side.

"... What on earth?"

She stares at the gaudy green decoration for what feels like a decidedly long time. Squeezing it irritably so as to deflate it fully- a high pitched whistle piercing her ears- before she stalks over to deposit useless rubber into the trash.

"What..."

She freezes as she gazes down at the schizophrenic haze of color that adorns the inside of the younger woman's trash can, the discarded decorations soiled messily with what is instantly recognizable as chocolate frosting. Picking delicately at a few ruined streamers, the Mayor takes in a harsh intake of air as she uncovers pale blue icing, painstakingly piped and meaning so much more than just the destroyed words glaring back up at her.

"Why? Why would you do that...?"

But she finds she's having a hard time believing Emma to be the one behind this. She knows the Sheriff is a profoundly awkward character, and not at all a fan of emotional occasions, but if the blonde had harbored doubt as to celebrating the boy's birthday, the Mayor is sure she would have chickened out long before toiling over a cake and decorating the apartment.

Eyes widening fearfully, she shakes her head as her eyes dart around the empty apartment fretfully.

"What the hell happened, Emma!?"


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N: **_Ok, ok, that's if for the chapter spam for one evening, I promise! As is probably evident, it's been an uneventful night, but sleep is needed :(. Hope you enjoy this last chapter of the evening, and please please please review and make me happy when I wake up :)_

* * *

"What do you want?"

Regina glares at the old woman behind the counter angrily, finding her tone to be entirely loathsome despite the fact she has other, more important things on her mind.

"Ruby. Where is she?"

Granny opens her mouth, presumably to tell the Mayor the young brunette is otherwise engaged, but as she does so the waitress pops into view at the window separating the kitchen from the restaurant and raises an eyebrow.

"Regina... Madame Mayor... What can I do for you?"

When the older woman simply purses her lips and shakes her head, Ruby takes note of the high color to her cheeks and motions that she come through to the back curiously. Following the Mayor with a growing sense of trepidation, the young waitress faces her anxiously as they stand hidden behind a shelf of produce and dried goods.

"What... uh...?"

"Have you seen Emma?"

And just like that it's out there. No 'Miss Swan' bullshit, no beating about the bush. She had thought originally upon going to the schoolteacher, but had found the idea simply too hateful. Besides, she may despise the young brunette who now studies her open-mouthed and riddled with idiocy, but there is no changing the fact that Ruby knows what she knows, and right now Regina has little time for small talk.

"Um, yeah, last night... why?"

The waitress's dark eyes go swiftly from cagey interest to concern, and for that the Mayor is grateful; it saves her having to admit her own fears.

"She's not at home."

"Oh. I... I don't know... I thought-"

"-Henry just came home and said she wasn't there... He was crying. Today is his birthday."

"I... I know... Emma... Emma wasn't there?"

"No."

"That's weird..."

"Do you think she would have bailed?"

Ruby blinks in surprise. Regina's question seems genuine, and her intelligent eyes are filled with anxiety. Choosing her words carefully, the waitress continues warily.

"No... I was round her place last night... We made a cake and she decorated the place... She was excited... She wouldn't have bailed... Maybe she was called in on an emergency?"

"... Her phone was lying on the kitchen table."

"... And she wasn't there?"

"No."

"...That's... That's really weird..."

"She hasn't said anything to you?"

"About taking off? No! Nothing!... Something about this... it doesn't feel right..."

Dark eyes glisten fretfully and the Mayor nods in reluctant agreement.

"No. That's what I thought too."

"But, like, who would want to hurt Emma? I mean... the only person I would have thought would harm her is... well... umm..."

"Me?"

"... Yes."

"I wouldn't lay a finger on her... As I believe- according to Miss Swan- you know..."

"... I know."

"There is one other..."

"Mr Gold..."

"Precisely."

"But why? I mean... I know you guys had it out in here... Same with Emma... But what does he _want_ with her?"

"I... I don't know."

"Do you think he-"

"-Miss Lucas I haven't a clue what that hateful imp wants with the Sheriff, but if he so much as _looks_ at her in a way she doesn't want him to... Rest assured... I will make him regret it."

Ruby regards the darker woman levelly as the Mayor hisses at her intently, watching as the darker woman's eyes flash with anger. Pulling herself up to her full height, she nods bravely.

"And I would be next in line..."

Regina pauses, studying the younger woman critically, coming to the slow realization that for now she has much in common with the waitress; the young brunette evidently distraught at the disappearance of her friend and prepared to go quite some way towards getting her back.

"You really think he'd... I dunno.. _kidnap_ her?!"

"I don't know _what_ to think. All I know is that my son is at home under the impression that his... his mother... didn't want to spend time with him today. Now, for a long time, I would have wished that to be true, as I'm sure I don't need to tell you. Now, though... I refuse to believe that to be the case, and the only person I know that would have the audacity to stand between a young boy and his birthday wishes is Gold... I don't know what he wants, dear, but I guarantee you... I plan to find out."

* * *

The blonde wakes up groggily, her head pounding and her stomach churning hatefully. She blinks slowly in an attempt to adjust to the dim light of the room, rolling her head to the side weakly. She becomes gradually aware of the fact that her mouth has been gagged with some form of bitter tasting material which rubs coarsely against her lips and tongue and struggles against the urge to heave up the contents of her stomach.

For a brief, disorientated moment she wonders if the Mayor is behind her current predicament, incoherently pondering on whether this is the result of a game gone too far. Struggling to sit up, she notes with a great sense of distress that her wrists have been cuffed tightly to what she concludes are bedposts and she knows instantly Regina isn't behind this.

Regina wouldn't let her be cuffed in such a way.

Not anymore.

Coming out of her drugged stupor as she breathes fretfully through her nose, she struggles to lift her head to survey her surroundings, her heart beating frantically in her chest. Shaking her head in denial, she attempts to yell out through her gag but the resulting sound is so pitifully muffled it only serves to terrify her more. Vaguely aware that she has started to cry, she trembles fitfully on the hard mattress, kicking her feet uselessly as she chokes weakly on her restrained sobs.

_No. No. No. No. Please no. Please! No. No. This can't be happening. No. No! NO!_

Thrashing wretchedly on the bed, she stills only when her brow glistens with exhaustion and her breathing comes out rough and ragged. Struggling hatefully to control her racing mind, she begins to yank desperately at her restraints.

She begins to yank _hard_.


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N: **_Not sure about this one... hopefully it's alright :) Thanks for all the lovely comments for the other three! I'm on a roll now! _

* * *

When the door to his shop slams open- glass rattling in angry protest in its frame- and the brunette storms across the threshold, the old pawnbroker is ready for her. Glancing up from a paper he isn't actually reading, he raises an eyebrow at her in mock curiosity and clears his throat.

_My, my, things have clicked much faster than I had thought they would... What a pity, dearie, for you really must be fond of our absent little Sheriff._

"Mayor Mills, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What did you do to her?"

"Why, whatever are you on about, dear?"

Dark eyes twinkle as Gold watches the Mayor intently as she glares at him murderously. Refusing to take a step back, even when she rushes forth without warning towards him and presses her face so close to his he can feel her breath on his lips, he simply smiles at her knowingly.

"Emma. What have you done to her?"

"Why the curiosity? I was under the impression that whatever happens to our young Sheriff is of none of your concern?... Or so you told me."

"It is my son's birthday, and he was supposed to be spending the day with Miss Swan. I now have a distraught young child who believes he has been tossed aside by the woman yet again, and an integral member of this town's governing force nowhere to be found. So yes, the Sheriff's apparent disappearance is very much something of my concern."

"You let that woman have_ your _son on his_ birthday_?!... Forgive me, Regina, but that certainly doesn't _sound_ like you have no interest in the young lady's life..."

"That is not something for you to judge! It is a situation that pertains to Miss Swan and I alone! Now tell me, or I'll find a way to _make _you tell me... Where is she?"

"And what makes you think _I_ know anything about this, dearie?"

"... I don't _think_ you do, Gold. I _know_ you do."

"Curious."

"Tell me!"

Gold cocks his head to one side and regards the brunette with unmasked interest, trying to recall the last time he has seen her quite so irate. Angry, sure, he's seen her angry a dozen times, but this is more than that. Her hands tremble tellingly at her sides, and her dark eyes are a little too wide, a little too nervous. Running his finger thoughtfully over his bottom lip, he smiles at her kindly.

"You really _do_ care for her, don't you..."

The words are less directed towards the Mayor than they are the simple thoughts of the pawnbroker expressed out loud, and Regina growls at him angrily, slamming her palms down with brutal force on the counter that stands thankfully between them.

"Where is she, Gold?"

"She's safe, if _that_ puts you at ease at all?"

"_Safe_?! Safe _where_?! What the hell did you _do_?"

"Calm yourself! Take some deep breaths, dearie, there really isn't any need for all this fuss..."

"Where. Is. Emma?"

Shrugging, the pawnbroker smirks, his gold tooth flashing hatefully in the dim light that streams hazily through the shop window.

"Oh, it's not going to be that easy, my dear... You see, I wouldn't have taken her if I didn't have any reason to do so."

"What do you mean? What could you possibly want from her!?"

"... An interesting question. Let me ask _you_ the same thing. What do _you_ get from your peculiar little arrangement with the Sheriff?... I certainly wouldn't presume you have much time for what she has to _say_... But perhaps there are _other_ things young Emma is more skilled at doing with her mouth? Hmm? You know... I may just ask her-"

"-You fucking _touch_ her and I'll-"

"-Ooh! My! Language, Madame Mayor! You'll what, dearie? You'll _what_? What do you have to threaten me with if I touch the pretty little Sheriff?"

"I'll..."

Mouth opening and closing but finding no answer, the Mayor hisses venomously and glares down at her hands.

"What do you want?"

"Well that depends... What are you willing to give me?"

"... Whatever it takes."

"... Interesting."

"... _Well_?!"

Bright eyes flicker back up to regard Gold fretfully, squeezing tightly shut when the old man simply throws his head back and laughs.

"Eager aren't we?..._ Your Majesty_."

"You... How..."

"Oh, let's not bother with hows, whys and ifs, dearie, after all, there's a fair maiden up to be won, and I doubt she'd thank you for taking the time to discuss such unimportant little nuisances. I know who _you_ are and_ you_ know... who_ I_ am. And we _both_ know who the mouthy young Sheriff is, do we not?"

"... Make your point."

"I need your help."

"...Why?"

"I am looking for something. Something which was lost to me long ago. Now, in _this_ world, I have a chance of finding it... But I need you to show me where to look."

"... How would I know something like that?!"

"Oh, you wouldn't dearie... No... But with _magic_..."

"There _is_ no magic in this world, Gold!"

"No... But there is a way of changing that..."

"... The curse... It can't be broken. It requires the Saviour to do so, _you_ made it that way!... And Emma neither believes in magic... nor love. It is impossible."

Gold raises his eyebrow at the brunette's words, marvelling at her adamant refusal to accept the power the blonde posesses, much the same as Emma refuses to do so herself. The Mayor's doubt irritates him. He needs her to be desperate to get the younger woman back, and while she claims to be, he now realizes her fear has not been peaked to the extent he requires. He had hoped the brunette would have a solution, a way to make the blonde believe. Once Emma believes, she can be sent to collect what is hers... What is his... And magic can be restored. Power can be restored. He can have his son back.

He knows he can't break the curse himself.

Can't kill the blonde and retrieve the tonic from the belly of the beast.

Can't risk Regina taking an eye for an eye should he slay the Savior.

Emma must break the curse.

And if she is to do so alive, she must find it within herself to love.

_Really_ love.

He had thought it would be the boy who would break her eventually, but he doesn't have time to wait around for the Sheriff to battle with her psyche and bully down the barriers she has built around her heart.

He needs her scared.

He needs her to realize she matters to someone.

To accept the very idea of love when it is offered to her.

He needs Regina to know for _certain_ that she loves the blonde. That it goes deeper than caring. Deeper than lust. He is almost certain that what the brunette feels _is_ love, but 'almost' isn't good enough. He needs her to know for sure.

And doesn't the saying go: 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder'?

_Your doubt in the Saviour's ability to comprehend love saddens me, dear, as it appears things are going to take just that little bit longer. Still, better safe than sorry. Better you fret that little bit longer. Worry that little bit harder. Care that little bit deeper. _

_I assure you, if your feelings are true, _everyone_ wins in the end._

_You just can't know that yet._

"Well... If it is impossible... I'm afraid I must call an end to this little conversation. It appears you have nothing I want after all."

"What...?"

"I don't believe I could have made myself any more clear, Madame Mayor. Now, if you please, I'd like to return to my work."

"_Gold_!"

"Leave. _Please_."

"I will have your hide for this!"

The pawnbroker watches neutrally as the brunette growls menacingly at him, doing little to hide his amusement at the way she leaves his shop in an awkward, almost jerky fashion; her mind screaming that this isn't over, but that long ago deal forcing her to adhere to his request. Shaking his head as the door slams loudly, he sighs as he supposes he's going to have to play this rather sordid game a little while longer after all.

Finishing his tea and gathering his coat, he slips out from behind the counter to go check on the Sheriff.

* * *

"Are you awake, dearie, you- _What the hell have you done_?!"

Dark eyes flash in alarm as the pawnbroker surveys the scene before him before limping swiftly from the room as fast as his weak leg will allow him.


	61. Chapter 61

**A/N:** _For those of you who thought Emma got away at the end of the last chapter (judging by comments)... I'm sorry..._

* * *

_"Are you awake, dearie, you- What the hell have you done?!"_

_Dark eyes flash in alarm as the pawnbroker surveys the scene before him before limping swiftly from the room as fast as his weak leg will allow him._

Ducking swiftly into the bathroom, the old pawnbroker glances around anxiously for a towel of some sort but comes up empty. Acting on impulse, he quickly sheds his suit jacket and holds the sleeve irritably beneath the frigid water from the cold tap, before limping back to the small room in which he has locked the blonde.

Hurrying over to the bed, he crouches painfully down at the side where she has fallen and struggles ruefully to hoist her back onto the bed, the young woman whimpering deliriously.

"Oh, god, what did you_ do_?!"

He mutters fearfully as he pulls her eyelid back with his thumb to inspect a hazy, unfocused green orb. Shaking his head fretfully, he drapes the sodden sleeve of his jacket over her forehead as he positions himself on the lumpy mattress.

"Stupid, _stupid _girl!"

The Sheriff's slim arms are streaked with blood. The left one hanging limply from the silver cuff in which he had placed her; her wrist crudely lacerated and clotted a painful red where the hateful metal bites into her flesh.

Her right rests useless to her side, the flesh torn and shredded and her thumb bent at an odd angle.

"Oh, Emma."

Gold grumbles fearfully as he inspects her ruined limb critically and realizes the blonde has broken her own wrist in her struggle to free herself.

Bloodshed is something for which he is ill prepared. He had thought the Sheriff would simply bitch and gripe as she lay mercifully prone on the hard bed to which he'd fastened her. A hateful part of him is proud of the young blonde that she should strive quite so valiantly for her release, but this curious thought is dampened as he is now met with the consequence to her actions.

Removing the wet sleeve from her brow, he uses it to carefully clean the blood from her wrists, cringing at the severity to the cuts she has made in pale white flesh. Shaking his head, he reaches to his side where he had set out some provisions this morning and pops open a can of coke. Feeding a straw into the sugary liquid, he wrestles an arm gently beneath frail shoulders and lifts the blonde so that her head lolls into his shoulder. Shaking her gently, he strives to get her to sip at the sweet liquid in an attempt to bring her back to the here and now.

"Come on, dearie, come on lass..."

The Sheriff splutters fitfully as she chokes on the fizzy drink and Gold immediately withdraws the straw from parched lips and pulls her up into his arms, speaking her name sternly into her ear.

"No-ooo..."

"It's ok, shh, stop that now, it's ok."

"...Hurts..."

Emma looks up at him in confusion and he realises instantly she had no clue what's happening or who he is. He wonders if she even knows who_ she_ is, but decides it doesn't matter. Nodding sympathetically, her lifts her arm up above her head and wraps his jacket firmly around her wrist to staunch the bleeding. He is aware that this precaution is lame at best, however, hatefully aware of the way her thumb hangs limply on a ribbon of torn tissue, but unsure exactly what to do about such a thing in a land without magic.

He pets her in a way he imagines to be soothing, the blonde finding herself in such a situation most definitely not part of his plan. Dark eyes darting about the blood-streaked bedding, he groans inwardly as he watches her begin to break out of her pained stupor into a fearful panic attack.

"What's going on?! No! What?!"

"Miss Swan..."

"No! No, n-no no! Please! No! Don't! No cuffs! Please!"

"Sheriff! Calm down! You're okay! There's nothing-"

"Get me out! Get me out! _Get me ou_t! No! NO!"

"Emma!"

Gold yells at her, slapping her smartly across the face as the Sheriff begins to thrash once more in earnest, the cuff that still holds her left wrist to the bed sawing painfully into broken skin.

"Stop it! Stop!_ Emma!_"

The pawnbroker's eyes widen as he struggles to hold the blonde still, the young women staring up at him fearfully before breaking down into a fit of childish weeping. Regarding her incredulously, Gold swiftly reaches into his shirt pocket and retrieves the key to her restraints. Sliding it into the bloodstained lock of the cuff that still holds her left wrist to the bed, he eases the crude silver bracelet away from her pale flesh carefully, frowning as fresh blood runs down her arm from exposed lacerations.

"Jesus..."

He is shocked at the Sheriff's behavior, unsure how and why things have so quickly reached the level that they have. The damage she has done to herself appalls him greatly, and he shakes his head in disbelief as he carefully wraps the other sleeve of his jacket to form a tourniquet just above her wrist.

"Emma?"

Creased brow hovering inches from the blonde's, sour breath hot on her cheeks. She looks up at him blearily, face white and lips dry.

"Please, don't hurt me..."

"I... I wasn't going to."

He mutters irritably, pressing sodden fabric firmly to her bleeding wrists. He needs another plan, and fast; a way to keep the blonde subdued in which she won't pose as a danger to herself.

"Jefferson."

He groans angrily, not at all pleased at the idea of involving the deluded young man, but realizing the Hatter to be his best option.

He observes her critically as sooty lashes flutter closed, moving his fingers hesitantly to her throat and sighing with a meagre sense of relief as her pulse beats lightly but rhythmically beneath his calloused skin.

Reaching once more into his pocket, he retrieves his phone, dialing a number he had planned on never calling again and waiting with a furrowed brow until the melodic whine of the mad man's voice greets him through the static.

"Yes?"

"Jefferson. I need you to do something for me..."


	62. Chapter 62

**A/N: **_ I hope this little conversation is believable as it's one, personally, I've looked forward to writing for a while. (Although, because a lot of this story is spontaneous, I didn't plan for it to take place in quite these circumstances...). Still... I hope you enjoy. :)_

* * *

The old woman looks up from the order she scribbles down with practiced finesse and frowns. She studies the dark brunette shrewdly as the arrogant young woman marches self-importantly towards the door to the diner. Grabbing her granddaughter by the arm, she speaks to her bluntly.

"What does the Mayor want, girl?"

Bright eyes regard her curiously before Ruby glances over to the door and sighs.

"I don't know, I'll go speak to her."

"You'll do no such thing; you're working, it isn't her right to demand your attention."

"It's okay, Granny, she... I think I know why she's here. I won't be long."

The gray haired woman opens her mouth to argue, but the waitress slips deftly past her and hurries up to the brunette, her heels tapping out a sharp rhythm on the bright linoleum floor.

"Regina... What-"

She trails off nervously as she takes in the pallor to the older woman's complexion and the furious tremble of her hands. Surprising herself, she swiftly takes charge, pulling the Mayor authoritatively along by the arm and guiding her through the door so that they stand outside. She catches several curious glances as she goes, and hopes Regina hasn't clued on to the fact that she has just been publicly ordered about by a mere waitress. Beckoning the brunette to follow her around to the side of the building where they find themselves sheltered in privacy, she turns to the older woman anxiously.

"Did you speak to Gold?"

"...Yes."

"And? Where's Emma?"

"_Does it look like I know?!_"

Ruby takes a step back as bright white teeth snap at her angrily, but bares the Mayor little grievance for her reaction. Running a hand nervously through her long hair she looks down at the cigarette-butt studded floor and sighs.

"Did he tell you_ anything_?"

"He has her."

"What do you mean 'has' her?"

"I... I don't know."

"Well, is she _okay_?"

Regina gathers herself forcefully and sighs, her face drawn, making her appear much older than her years.

"He... He told me I don't have anything he wants..."

"That he _wants_?! What the hell would he want?! Why!? Why is he doing this to her?!"

The brunette closes her eyes wearily as the young waitress cries shrilly; Ruby's words ghosting into misted breath as her eyes water hatefully. Shaking her head, the Mayor speaks in low tone, her expression cold and unsettled.

"Mr Gold wants information I do not have. He says the Sheriff is safe, and... Well, I believe him. I have no choice. But Emma... Whatever is happening, whatever he has hidden her away for... I know her... I_ know _her... If Gold has stood between her and celebrating Henry's birthday, he has done so by force... I don't want to think about what that entails..."

"Do you... Do you think he'd hurt her?"

The waitress's words are but a mere whisper, and when the Mayor looks up at her, Ruby's watering eyes are cast hatefully to the floor. Realizing that she stands in the company of the woman who- along with the hateful schoolteacher- perhaps best understands her current predicament, however absurd the idea may be, Regina sighs, shaking her dark tresses fretfully.

"I don't know. I don't think so... But... That's not _good_ enough for me..."

"What... What information did he want? Are you _sure_ you don't know? Are you sure you can't give him _something_?!"

"...Yes."

Regina scowls down at her hands irritably. She had been thrown by the pawnbroker's motives, and feels rattled and unsure of herself. As to what he wishes- what will garner the blonde her freedom- she knows only one thing: she needs Emma on board, and, as much as it pains her, she just doesn't think the Sheriff has what it takes in her.

_You don't know that!_

True, she doesn't, but it's a risk she's not willing to take. She wishes inwardly that she had found some way to tell the younger woman about the apple. She knows such a thing would have been impossible to explain, but still... Of all the people she knows and is forced to deal with on a daily basis, it is Emma whom she now realises she would seek out- however surreptitiously- for guidance; that she would trust to offer some sort of solution. If she had told the blonde about the apple, about the kiss she still doesn't quite understand, then perhaps she would know right now what to do.

_I think I do though. And I think I do love her._

She immediately balks at the absurdity of the idea, shaking her head in adamant disbelief. If she were to allow Gold's wish for the curse to break... She is hatefully aware of the consequences that would lead to such a conclusion.

The Savior loves or the Savior dies.

She thinks she loves Emma, despite the idea taking her entirely by surprise, not just in what it entails, but due to the _strength_ of the emotion she feels for the younger woman.

_I do. I must. I must love her. Nothing else would hurt this badly._

Hanging her head defeatedly, she knows that she can do all the soul searching in the world, but it doesn't matter unless the Sheriff feels the same about her...

And she doesn't think that's the case.

She doesn't think Emma to be cold.

She just thinks she's broken.

She wishes she'd confided her fear about the apple. She wishes she'd asked the younger woman about the scar marring her stomach. She wishes the blonde would have asked her once more about the key gifted to her... Unimportant now, but meaningful nonetheless. The skeleton key to the Station's jail cells. A solid keepsake of a promise that she would never use the Sheriff in such a way as she had used her again. Never abuse her, never degrade her, never ever hurt her if she was able to refrain from doing so.

But she had.

She _had_ hurt her.

But she had also saved her.

And she does believe now that it was her kiss that was responsible.

And she does believe that she loves her.

_Truly_ loves her.

"I can't give him what he wants... There are... There are certain things I am unable to do when in Gold's presence... I know that sounds curious, just as I know you are in no position to trust me... But... I need you to put that aside. If you care for Miss Swan.. For Emma... I need you to believe she was doing the right thing in believing in me..."

"...What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to check Gold's shop... I know it sounds easy, and it probably doesn't make any sense that I didn't do so myself, but I need you to... I need you to-"

"-To trust you..."

Dark eyes find the young waitress's gaze desperately and the brunette nods.

"... You really care for her don't you?... For Emma?"

Ruby's words are quiet, simple, not at all like the pawnbroker's which has seemed almost accusatory. Ever true to her nature, however, the brunette merely sniffs irritably and tosses her hair.

"Do I care for the Sheriff? Yes. I told you as much."

"No you didn't... You're worried about her. You were angry at her for bailing on Henry. You never said you cared for her."

"My wording is unimportant, why make it into something it's not? I care for Miss Swan and you said she told you as much!"

"No."

"No?!"

"No... She told me that _she _cared for _you_..."

"I...She... She did?"

"You see...Words _are _important, Regina..."

The Mayor regards the waitress in silent disbelief, her heart beating feverishly in her throat.

"She actually... She said that?"

"She said she was happy. That _you_ made her happy. You know Emma... That should be enough to tell you the things she _can't _say..."

"I..."

The brunette frowns in confusion as her chest feels suddenly too tight and her eyes prickle hatefully. Studying the dim young waitress curiously, she is as unsettled by Ruby's words as she is moved by them. She feels a sudden guilt for the grief she has given the blonde over her friendship with the young woman before her, and the fact she is even able to comprehend such an emotion terrifies her, as it lets the reality of her feelings sink in.

She loves the Sheriff; loves her and pities her for her lack of companionship in the past. Loves her to the point that she is willing- that she is _able_- to allow the duel relationship that exists with Ruby- with Mary Margaret- because she just wants Emma to be happy.

For her to be happy is enough.

"I... I care for her."

"Then tell me what you need me to do."

"Check Gold's shop. I will give you a replica to the key. Break in, look for anything suspicious; a crack in the wall, a seam to the floorboards... He has her... And we're going to find her... We wait until nightfall, and you go in... Are you up to it?"

"Why nightfall... Why not now?"

"Because Gold is a dangerous man... You go now and he may catch you... I want Miss Swan safe, but... Not at your risk... _She_ wouldn't send you out so carelessly, so... Neither will I... We wait till nightfall, and I shall stand guard outside..."

"... This is really happening? We're really breaking into Gold's shop to find Emma?"

"... I'm afraid so."

"Don't be."

"Sorry?"

"Don't be afraid... We'll find her... I just needed to check I was still sane! We'll... You'll find her... I promise."

"You should never make promises you can't keep, Miss Lucas."

"I can keep this one. If you don't find her...Mary Margaret or I will... Emma may believe she's alone... But Gold's picked the wrong girl to mess with..."

"... Touching."

"I'm serious!"

_I know that. I know. And when we find her... I hope_ she_ realises that too..._

"Good. We meet outside the shop tonight. Eleven. Don't be late."|

"I won't... And, Regina... It'll be alright... Emma... She's a tough girl... She won't let him hurt her... We'll sort this out... Okay?"

The Mayor's eyes shimmer in the orange glow of the setting sun, and she finds herself unable to respond and so merely nods her head. Turning briskly for home, she throws the waitress a parting shot; her expression grave but determined.

Ruby smiles at her thinly before slipping back into the chaos of the diner.


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N: **_I should probably just accept already that I am likely to fail uni due to fan fic. Oh well. Enjoy! Dun dun duuuun._

* * *

"Regina..."

The waitress steps back apologetically as the Mayor jerks, startled, beneath her outstretched hand. Giving her a small smile of reassurance, she slips quickly into the small alleyway in which the brunette had been perched, pulling her companion along with her.

"What is _she_ doing here?!"

The older woman snarls, regarding the schoolteacher venomously. Glancing from the Mayor to Mary Margaret, Ruby rolls her eyes and whispers agitatedly.

"Her best friend and housemate is missing, Regina, I_ had _to let her know!"

"You... You're... You and Emma?"

Hatefully familiar green eyes regard her warily from the shadows and the brunette growls quietly as she pulls herself to her full height, challenging the younger woman with her stance alone.

"Is there a problem, Miss Blanchard? Because if so, perhaps you should run on home..."

The raven headed woman scowls at her uncertainly, but shakes her head, her mouth drawn into an unhappy line.

"The only problem I have at the moment is that my friend is missing and that I'm standing outside some madman's shop in the hopes of springing her free... All I want, Madame Mayor, is for Emma to be okay..."

"... Alright then."

Giving the paler woman one last, lingering warning glance, the brunette dips slim fingers into the pocket of her coat and retrieves a glittering silver key. Holding it tightly as she lets out a low breath, she reluctantly proceeds to hand it over to the waitress, dark eyes intense beneath the cloak of her lashes.

"Remember; you search_ everywhere_. Bookcases, floorboards, behind goddamned_ paintings_... No matter how absurd it may seem... It could lead to something..."

Ruby takes the key timidly, her eyes wide as she looks from one woman to the other.

"This is crazy, right? I mean... It's _crazy_! We're... We're really breaking into Gold's to find Emma... How the hell did this even _happen_?!"

Her muttering forms misted breath in the narrow space of the alley, but despite the uncertainty of her words, she pulls herself together fiercely, resting gloved fingers on Mary Margaret's shoulder. Receiving a curt nod from the Mayor, she pulls at the schoolteacher's hand nervously and leads her out from the safety of their hiding place and round to the locked door of the pawnbroker's store.

"Cross your fingers."

Mary Margaret laughs nervously, her eyes wide and teeth chattering, watching anxiously as the skinny waitress slides the small key deftly into the lock and turns it cautiously with an audible click.

"We're really doing this?"

"We're doing this."

Holding the door open so that the raven headed woman can slip past her into the darkness of the shop, Ruby surveys the empty street warily before pulling the door gently shut; shrouding them in a blackness that blinds them completely.

* * *

"Did you bring a torch?"

"No... Just this..."

Mary Margaret waits fretfully as a low rustling sounds to her left, biting her lip as silence descends upon her once more, before the soft click of a Zippo lighter brings Ruby's bright eyes into view before her.

"I... I didn't think it through... I'm not... I'm not really a pro at this kind of thing..."

"You and me both..."

"Hang on... wait... I think..."

The schoolteacher's brow furrows as the brunette fails to complete her sentence, but then a brighter light spills about the room as the waitress dips a slim white candle down towards the lighter.

"Better?"

"Yeah... Why don't we just close the curtains and just use the light? It'd be easier?"

"I don't want to risk it. Regina says Gold's dangerous... I'm inclined to agree..."

"You don't... You don't think it's weird she's not in here with us?"

"Oh, I do."

"Then... I mean... What if she's-"

"-But I also know she's on our side."

"How can you be so sure?"

"She's on Emma's side. Emma's on our side."

"... I can't believe you _knew_ about this!"

"I only found out this morning..."

"Not about Emma being missing! About Regina!"

"Oh... Well... Yeah, I guess it's a little odd..."

"A 'little odd'?! It's_ crazy_!"

"Yeah, well, I guess love's never easy... If it was, we'd _all_ have it, right?"

"Love?! You think that's what it is?! It's _Regina_! It's much more likely this is part of some bigger, nastier plan! It's-"

"- Do you trust Emma?"

The schoolteacher pauses as the brunette's face swims illuminated before hers, regarding bright eyes warily.

"Yes..."

"Then right now, that's all that matters. It doesn't matter if this is Gold's wrongdoing or Regina's... Emma wasn't around for Henry's birthday, and there is no way she'd miss it without something seriously messed up coming into play..."

"I know... That's why I'm here."

"Okay then."

Moving away from the raven headed woman to inspect a misleadingly loose floorboard, the waitress sighs, her tone weary when she continues.

"It's not Regina though."

"What isn't?"

"Regina didn't do this... She says she cares for Emma... And I believe her."

"Cares for her?! After _everything_ she's done!? You buy that!?"

"I do... You didn't see what I saw..."

"Did I see the Mayor feel up my housemate? No! And I'm pretty darn fine about that! What I _did_ see is that woman work her ass off to ruin Emma's chance at a fresh start and a relationship with Henry!"

"She-"

"She doesn't love her!"

"_Shhh_! What do-"

"Emma! Emma does_ not_ love Regina! It's... It's crazy!"

"_Quiet_!"

"This is messed up..."

Mary Margaret's voice drops to a low whisper, unsure, and Ruby moves to stand beside her companionably.

"You don't know that. I doubt Emma herself even knows whether she loves her or not... Right now, that doesn't _matter_ though, okay? You can ask her about it when we find her... Just... Don't overlook the fact that there's a good chance we wouldn't even know there was anything _wrong_ if Regina hadn't come to me this morning..."

"I know... I just... I want Emma to be happy..."

"... I think... I think she is, you know..."

Sighing, the schoolteacher follows the brunette through into the back room, ducking nervously beneath various tapestries and out of place awnings.

"God, does this mean we're going to have Regina over for dinner and stuff?"

"From what I hear, that's already happened."

"Seriously?!"

"Yep, I believe your housemate cooked for her..."

"Emma _cooked_!?"

"That's what I heard..."

"God... Regina really _mus_t like her... If they're still on speaking terms after _that_..."

Ruby chuckles lightly, glad to cling to this benign line of conversation so as to thwart the nerves threatening to swoop in regarding their predicament. Spying a thin sliver of light at the far wall, the waitress freezes in her tracks, holding out an arm to make Mary Margaret do the same.

"See that?"

Her whisper is high as she tries to keep the panic from her voice. Glancing to her side, she sees the raven headed woman nod nervously in the flickering light of the candle.

"That's what we're looking for, I guess... You think she's in there?"

"She must be... But... What is Gold is too?"

"That's what this is for..."

Mary Margaret gasps as the brunette pulls an unmistakable gleam of silver from her pocket with shaking hands.

"You took Emma's _gun_!?"

"It's not Emma's, it's Regina's..."

"You can't! You can't actually use it! We'll-"

"Shh... stop whispering so loud! I'm not _gonna _use it... It's just... It's just for protection, okay?"

Smiling at the schoolteacher with a reassurance she doesn't truly feel, Ruby motions silently with the barrel of the gun that the paler woman should move to stand to the side of the narrow swatch of light emanating from behind the hidden door. Blowing out the candle and bracing herself in the darkness, she grits her teeth as she makes out a low moaning sound from behind concealed hollow wood before stalking forwards; eyes glittering like silver through the ink black shadows.


	64. Chapter 64

**A/N:** _I have to admit... Writing these actiony (not a word) parts is a lot of fun! I just hope they're enjoyable to read too! (And yes, I know, cliffhangers, but I try to cut chapters off at a vaguely logical point that will leave you all wondering... because I'm cruel like that!). A thank you to my brother as well- who, hopefully, doesn't actually read this as it's highly unsuitable for his age- for listening to lots of Placebo recently. Rediscovering 'Infra Red' was a great catalyst to writing this chapter. :) Enjoy!_

* * *

_Blowing out the candle and bracing herself in the darkness, she grits her teeth as she makes out a low moaning sound from behind concealed hollow wood before stalking forwards, eyes glittering like silver through the ink black shadows._

"Impressive."

Gold mutters as he observes the two young women burst into the empty crawl space behind his office. Pulling the curtain neatly back into place, he turns to the Sheriff who currently shares the small one bedroom flat with him opposite his shop with a pleasant smile.

"Much sooner than I had thought, Miss Swan. I believe I had placed my bets for tomorrow afternoon. I forget what you wagered?"

Baleful green eyes regard him hatefully from the bed as the blonde glares up at him silently. After finding her this afternoon, bloodied and with the scrap of material he had used as a gag hanging useless around her throat, he has left her mouth uncovered.

It turns out the Sheriff is a woman of few words when in her current predicament.

Limping over to perch beside her, he fusses aside an errant strand of hair that tickles her face; its tip stained a dull maroon. Sighing as the young woman flinches away from him with a feline hiss, he rolls his eyes as he laments the Sheriff's undesirable behavior.

"How's the pain?"

Dark eyes survey her critically as the pawnbroker lets his attention fall to the blood-streaked rags he has bound tightly around her injuries. Her face remains alarmingly pale, while obscure green glitters feverishly from beneath purpled lids, her lips chapped and bloodless, but she has remained both characteristically insolent and thankfully coherent since his lackluster attempt to staunch the bleeding at her wrists so he pays this little mind.

"Do you want to use the bathroom before we figure out how to make you behave?"

Glowering silence, and he supposes he should be used to such ill mannered childish behavior by now. Pressing a long-nailed finger cruelly against sodden fabric, he is rewarded by a pained snarl and he moves so that he sits nose to nose with the Sheriff.

"I_ said_... Do you want to use the bathroom?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"_Really_, Sheriff!"

Gold laughs, shaking his head in amusement as though the young woman has just shared a particularly humorous joke. Raising his eyebrow at her curiously, he simply remains seated and enjoys her silent company.

Her white dress and childish tights both carry ugly blemishes from her foolish little bit of mischief earlier in the day and he itches to change her but doesn't see how this will possibly go down well in her current state.

In her conscious state.

Sighing, his eyes wander back to the blood-damped fabric covering her wrists and he frowns. He has changed his makeshift dressings once already since finding more suitable scraps of material than the sleeves of his ruined suit, and yet still the pale blue fabric is blotted an ugly maroon. He knows little about medicine, but understands enough to be certain that the young woman is in need of stitches, and that forgoing them will leave her with a series of crude scars. He would almost say such a fate would serve her right, but he can't help being plagued by the mental image of the state of her right hand- now mercifully covered and hidden- and the wary knowledge that if the frail bones she has shattered in her attempt for freedom aren't set soon, she will likely lose the use of her fingers.

She is a pretty thing, and the thought bothers him.

But such is life.

She should have been better behaved.

Lesson learnt.

"Do you want another pain killer, dearie?"

She doesn't react, but then he hadn't really expected her to. He has found early on that to offer the blonde _anything_ is a mistake. What is offered to her, her stubbornness refuses. Taking matters into his own hands, he simply feeds the chalky white tablet he retrieves from his pocket firmly through her lips and holds up the can of coke so that she can swallow it down. He looks away as she does so, having also learnt that if given the small hints of privacy he is able to offer her, the Sheriff is not _entirely_ idiotic.

"Good girl."

She regards him miserably, and he is glad that she has stopped asking him why he is doing this to her. She seems unable to comprehend the idea of there being a bigger picture, and, as little as it bothers him to be thought of as 'evil', to be stuck in a room with only the injured Sheriff's hateful swearing for company has been tiresome.

"Why don't you try and get some- _Oh_!"

A knock on the door has them both startled, and Gold chuckles lightly at the sudden hope that alights the blonde's eyes. She opens her mouth- presumably to yell out- but the pawnbroker's laughter, along with the amused shake of his head has her voice catching in her throat.

"Not a valiant rescue, I'm afraid. Not yet. Fear not, dearie, our guest doesn't bite."

Pushing himself up from the bed and grabbing his cane, the little man offers her a warning glance before making his way from the small bedroom out into the more spacious living area. Limping over to the door, he peers cautiously through the peephole, before pulling back shoddily painted wood and beckoning his guest inside.

"You found your way up the inner staircase alright, I see?"

"Evidently. A curious design, is it not?"

"Curious, but undeniably useful. I believe this apartment once served as a janitor's live-in space, hence the separate access."

"How... Fortunate."

"Indeed... Do you have what I asked for?"

"I do. Who's your problem?"

"The Sheriff."

"The... The Swan woman? Emma?"

Jefferson raises an eyebrow as he pulls a small, velvet pouch from his tail coat. He has found himself more and more intrigued by the young woman in question over the past few weeks; having started out merely watching her on occasion out of general interest, finding her arrival and that of the writer to be fascinating. His attention had fallen more often on the blonde than on August, due to the simple fact that the Sheriff's station's windows face North, and thus offer him a better view.

At least, that had been the case until two weeks ago.

As a recluse, the madman spends little time in the town; venturing out seldomly for the sole purpose of restocking his pantry. As such, it had taken him a good few months to find out anything more about the blonde than those things pertaining to her appearance and mannerisms.

Her favored jacket. The way she wears her hair down when addressing company but ties it haphazardly away from her face when alone. Her tendency to pace about her small office with a pen held to her lips as though nursing a cigarette. Her slow improvements with the dartboard that hangs on the far wall by her desk... All these things he knows, but it is only two weeks ago that he'd learnt of the Sheriff's name.

Emma.

And wasn't that just a little _too_ coincidental.

"She's the... It's her?"

"It is."

"You're _sure_? You- What was that?!"

Jefferson cocks his head to the side as the old pawnbroker frowns, the heavy thud from the bedroom catching them both off guard. Giving the madman a harried glance, Gold follows him quickly through the door to the blonde's makeshift cell.

"Again?!_ Really_, dearie?!"

He grumbles irritably, dark eyes flashing angrily as he surveys the Sheriff pull her legs up into her chest as she curls up on the floor, her legs having given out beneath her and her senses telling her to give up on a lost cause; her pained crawling laughable at best.

"Bad move, little girl..."

"Oh, put it away..."

Gold pushes aside the gun Jefferson holds trained to messy curls irritably, rolling his eyes as he uses the toe of his shoe to nudge gently at the blonde's hip. She growls at him angrily, but the little man pays this little mind.

"She was trying to get away!"

The hatter whines as he re-holsters his gun; unappreciative of being reprimanded quite so patronizingly.

"Of course she is! Why did you _think_ I requested you come here?!"

Shrugging off Jefferson's glower disinterestedly, Gold leans heavily on his cane and points at the Sheriff.

"Help me get her back on the bed."

Despite his words, he offers no assistance as the younger man reaches down to pull at the blonde's long limbs carelessly in an effort to hoist her back onto the bloodstained sheets.

"_Careful_! She's not a rag doll!"

The madman rolls his eyes, but sets the Sheriff down a little more gently, eyes flashing with amusement as she glares up at him blackly.

"Pretty little thing isn't she?... And you can definitely see where she gets some of her features from. She-"

"-Go wait in the other room. I will see to you shortly. I wish to make something quite clear to our dear young Sheriff."

Jefferson scowls as he finds himself rudely dismissed but stalks obediently back into the living room. He has numerous questions of his own, and he imagines they will be answered much sooner if he stays on the little man's good side.

_And besides... He is not a man you'd wish to cross._

Waiting until the door clicks shut behind his guest, the pawnbroker turns to the bed and limps over angrily, leaning down to study the blonde with his fists gripping tightly at his cane.

"A rather bad move on your part, don't you think, Emma?"

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me? That's all you have to say? 'Fuck you! Fuck you!'... How dull. Never mind, it matters not, because here's the thing, sweetheart, you can bitch and hiss however much you damn well like and it will make no difference... But you try something like _that_ again... I'm going to grow pretty damn tired of your games... Now listen up. There are two ways out of this room, Miss Swan. Either, you attempt to crawl your way over to the window over there only to find it's nailed shut... A factor I would pay no mind given the fact that if you _were_ able to climb down, you would most likely crack open your skull in your current state... Or, you could try leaving through that door there. Now, you and I both know that you are in no fit shape to be outrunning _anyone _right now, dearie... But show me such insolence again... And I _will_ break your legs. Do you understand me?... _Do you understand_?!"

"_Hey!_!"

The little man laughs dryly at the self righteous snarl the blonde offers him as he raps his cane pointedly against her shins. She is yet to beg him or crumble down before him since her little panic attack earlier, and this is something he has found secretly rather endearing. Perching down on the mattress companionably, he tisks as he notes the saturated rags around her wrists have begun to stain her dress where they rest in her lap. Shaking his head sorrowfully, he gives her knee a brief squeeze, ignoring the flash of teeth the gesture garners him.

"I'm going to hope you take heed to my warning, Miss Swan. I don't _want_ to hurt you, it is not part of my plan at all... But I will if you make me. Now. Be a good girl and sit tight. Young Master Jefferson is here to fix you up some tea which will make this all much more comfortable for you, dearie."


	65. Chapter 65

**A/N: **_Just a short one. I apologise, I had planned on uploading more tonight. But then the pub happened, and I had certain duties to uphold, like making my friend's boyfriend cry like a little girl while I beat him at pool. Repeatedly. So... Tomorrow?_

* * *

"What do you mean, it was a trap?"

The brunette enquires for what feels like the tenth time. She notes irritably the fact that both the waitress and the schoolteacher still wear their muddy shoes as they sit in her drawing room and hates herself for worrying about such things given the current situation.

She is still suffering from a mild case of shock as to the fact that both young women currently reside within her home; never thinking she would see the day where she and Mary Margaret would sit opposite one another sharing a beverage. As the younger two women had come hurrying out of Gold's shop, she had followed them both fretfully, demanding they tell her what they had found. Their harried footsteps had been headed automatically in the direction of the raven headed woman's apartment, but the Mayor had soon come to a halt, worrying about leaving her son with the reporter given the events of the day. At her ill-ease, Ruby had simply turned to face her and asked if she would be alright if she and Mary Margaret came by in the next half an hour.

_If I would be alright?..._

She suspects it had been the complete madness of the waitress's suggestion that had stopped her from refusing such an intrusion then and there. Still, when her doorbell had chimed as she had finished removing her coat and shooing away Sydney, she had been surprised to find the two young women standing on her doorstep.

"We already told you..."

The schoolteacher mutters irritably, her face paler than usual and her lashes wet as she shakes her head fretfully. Stilling when the young brunette places a slender hand at her knee, Mary Margaret rests her head in her hands and lets the waitress take the stage.

"It was just a space behind Gold's office. There was a lantern in there which created the light I saw and greaseproof paper over a crack in the wall... The wind blowing against it made a whining noise and I just thought... Emma... I don't know. It could have been a trap. It could have just been our mistake. She's not there though..."

"You're sure?"

"Positive..."

"Oh god..."

"Maybe we have this wrong, though... I mean... What would Gold even _want_ with Emma? Do you know something we don't?"

The Mayor balks at the question defensively, but there is no accusation in the waitress's tone, rather a simple hope that something can be explained. Something can be made clear. Shaking her head, Regina regards the empty hearth miserably, wishing desperately that its ashen logs were once more ablaze and that is was the blonde in her magnificent black dress sat opposite her.

_Beautiful. You were always beautiful, and I should have told you so. I have no doubt you've heard it a hundred times before, the same as I wanted to argue at the time that you must have been called a hundred worse names than a whore..._ I_ didn't mean it though. I think I knew that then, but I didn't _realize_ that I knew it... Does that even make sense?! What others have called you in the past means nothing though, because this is now, and now you're mine, and I hope you understand that I don't mean that to be cruel, I mean that because... I need you. Don't leave me here with just these people I loathe so and have grown weary of conducting... I may bitch and gripe about having you about something rotten, but I hope you realize that without you... Well, it'd be so hellishly _boring_ without you, dear. Dull and peaceful and everything I wanted and yet nothing I want _anymore_. _

_Please. _

_I need you._

"No. I don't know anything more than you do."

Her heart skips a beat and she hopes she isn't being foolish by telling the younger two women such a thing, but she fails to see what other option she has. After all... It's not like she can explain the technicalities of the curse to them. No more so than she could explain the apple to Emma. It is a burden she must carry alone. One shared only between herself and Rumplestiltskin and...

No.

Out of the question.

Surely...

Frowning, the brunette regards her present company warily before rising and gesturing primly towards the door.

"I'm afraid I don't know anything more, and I grow tired... It's... It's been a long day, and I would like to get some rest. I have a young boy who I need to look after right now... Should you... Should you think of anything... Let me know."

Ruby and Mary Margaret nod in unison, taking their cue to leave and heading silently for the door. Watching them go, Regina sighs, following the younger women out into the grand hallway.

"Thank you... Both of you... For... Well, for trusting me. This isn't how I wanted this night to end... And I'm not just referring to Henry's birthday. I... I really thought we'd find Miss Swan... Emma... In the shop... I... Well, I suppose a part of me hopes this all really _was_ a case of cold feet after all. A part of me hopes she's sitting in your kitchen- sheepish and shamefaced- when you get home, Miss Blanchard."

"... Emma wouldn't miss Henry's birthday..."

"No. I know that... But I don't know what else there is to say..."

"Tomorrow."

"Excuse me, Miss Lucas?"

"Tomorrow. We'll carry on looking tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. This... This isn't some horror story... There's only so long the Sheriff of a town can stay missing, right? Only so long Gold can go without being seen in town?... I'm sure if this was a fairytale story or something, it'd be different, but... She'll be okay. I know Emma, and... She's not gonna take shit from some old man with a cane, I'll tell you that much. She'll show up."

"You sound so sure..."

"I am."

"Oh?"

"She... She just has to."

"... I hope you're right."


	66. Chapter 66

**A/N: **_This one was quite hard to write as I used it kind of to clear up a few things for myself! Hopefully, I have kind of tied up some lose ends to what I have mentioned of the curse as it pertains to this fic in the past. If not and there's something that doesn't make sense to you- PLEASE let me know!_

* * *

"My apologies for that little drama, the Sheriff can be rather ill-mannered at times."

Gold sweeps back into the main room to find Jefferson sat on the floor with his back to the wall. Nodding over to a small silver pot that stands on the peeling work surface of the small kitchenette, he leans on his cane thoughtfully.

"How long until it's ready?"

"About half an hour or so... Any sooner and it may not be strong enough."

"Half an hour is fine. I don't believe we'll be seeing another escape attempt for a while from Miss Swan."

"Why did you call me over? You could have just put her under yourself..."

"Because it is something at which you are well practiced, and the young woman's safety is paramount."

"And yet she can't even support her own weight due to the trauma from the injuries evidently sustained to her wrists?"

"A minor setback, but she lives to tell the tale."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Well... If she is who you _say_ she is... Why keep her alive at all? I was under the impression that our wishes were of a similar nature... That the curse should finally be lifted. Why keep the Savior alive when there is a much simpler option?"

"... There is no simpler option."

"No? You told me _yourself_ that the curse would break should Emma be killed... It was what made me reluctant to give the Queen the apple. It seemed-"

"-What apple...?"

"...Regina paid me a visit only two weeks ago... She had me retrieve the apple she had used to curse Snow White back in that pasture in our own land."

"That's impossible. There is no magic here..."

"No, and I was not able to go back. There was only enough magic within the ring she provided to open the smallest of portholes and grab the apple."

"...What ring?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, and she seemed reluctant to tell. Just a simple ring; a wedding band of sorts."

"... She.. She _gave _you this ring?"

"She did, and I summoned her the apple. I had little choice... As I said... I suffered my doubts in giving it to her... Should the Savior fall under the sleeping curse; the chance of me getting my daughter back would go from slim to none... I was tempted to merely finish the job myself..."

"Regina... Did she actually_ use_ the apple to curse the Sheriff!?"

"I don't know. I would have thought so judging by the urgency she seemed to possess for revenge, but clearly the Savior remains very much awake... It is most curious."

"Yes... Curious indeed."

The old pawnbroker frowns as this new information leaves him perplexed and in disbelief.

_Surely she didn't _actually _feed the apple to her Sheriff... As the hatter says... Emma is very much awake... Unless..._

_Oh._

_Oh my._

_Perhaps I have underestimated the situation after all._

_And that truth must truly _ache_ terribly, I imagine, Your Majesty._

_For if you _did_ poison the young woman only to be successful in reviving her... Well. _Your_ feelings are abundantly clear. _

_But for the rest of us to find ourselves continuing this clueless existence..._

"Whether she gave her the apple or not, clearly the girl didn't eat it."

"... Clearly..."

"So answer me my question: why are you keeping her alive at all? It serves no purpose."

"It serves_ every_ purpose. That young woman lying in there owes me a debt, and I plan on making her pay up when the time comes. She is of great importance, not just to us, but to the Queen. If Emma dies, there will be a slaughter on our hands, you mark my words... And should the Savior die by_ your_ hands... Well... I wouldn't want to be you when Regina found out..."

"She is your student; she poses you no real threat."

"...Never underestimate the power of True Love."

"What love?... For the boy?"

"For the Sheriff."

"... Impossible."

"Oh, no, not at all. In fact, when you sit down and think about it- which I have found myself doing a great deal these past few days- it makes all the sense in the world. I believe you would be hard put to find two people as well suited for one another as the women in question.

"But... for the Queen to love another _woman_...?"

"What of it? The carnal aspect to their relationship, while providing some fascinating mental imagery, is simply a quest for pleasure of a physical sort. Love though... Love is sexless. Your question should be 'For the Queen to love another at all?'... And to that I believe I may now know the answer to be 'yes'. Regina loves the Swan woman."

"... But... I thought... True love... Why does the curse still exist? If the Queen loves her as you say then-"

"Ah. Because it is not _Regina's_ love that will break the curse."

"... The Sheriff doesn't reciprocate her feelings?"

"Oh, I am almost certain that the Sheriff believes their affection is equal. The problem is that _affection_ is about as far as she is willing to allow her mind to go. I had thought it would be the boy who would break her, you know... But I believe there is something to be said for physical love. Emma reacts to the Mayor in a way that is completely foreign to her... But, alas, she is yet to discover the true depth to what she feels. That is why she is here. And that is why I am keeping her alive. She will feel it eventually. She must."

"What becomes of her after the curse is broken?... If she doesn't believe in magic, will it not ruin her to be launched into the thick of things as we left them? She may find it within her to love the Mayor... But to love the Evil Queen?"

"... What happens to Emma after the curse breaks is none of my concern. I will have my power back, and I will be able to demand my favor whether she wishes to comply or not. Regina can't stand in the way of her paying the price for our deal, and, as you say... I do believe that when Miss Swan finds herself confronted with the reality of things... She may desire never to lay eyes on that despicable woman again. Who knows? Such problems are her own."

"A cruel take."

"Perhaps."

"Inspired."

"I have had a long time to think on such things."

"How long will it take. For the Sheriff to realize her feelings?"

"... My, my, you are rather impatient for a man only just privy to such information."

"You are not the _only_ one who has had a long time to dwell on things..."

"No. Well, as for the time it takes young Emma to bow down to her own emotions, I should think that really depends on quite how resourceful our delightful Mayor finds herself... I find encouragement in the fact that she has already resorted to accepting aid. Most surprising."

"How does Regina's searching lead to the Savior finding True Love?"

"Simple. I believe that right now, the Sheriff spares no real hope that she will be found. Emma is a peculiar young woman to say the least, and she is a woman who not only finds it hard to trust, but finds the fault in such a thing to be in herself. She doesn't believe the Mayor will find her because she doesn't truly believe she's worth looking for. Emma needs to see with her own eyes the lengths love will make someone go. She needs to_ understand_ that the Queen loves her. Once she understands that... Well... I believe she will find it within herself to accept that she feels the same thing. She needs to understand what love _is_ in order to feel it."

"... And if she loves the Queen... The curse will break?"

"When she realizes she loves the Queen... Everything falls into our favor."


	67. Chapter 67

**A/N: **_Apologies in advance that things may get a little slower on the uploading front due to uni work over the next week or so. To make up for it, I will shameless direct you to one of the music videos I was looking at earlier for photo shoot inspiration as, not only is it by one of my absolute favourite bands, but the video is rather sexy also. So yes, check out the video for '**Written in Blood**' by '**She Wants Revenge**'... I dare you. :)_

* * *

The madman curses as he is pulled rudely from sleep by his own unconscious nodding. Glancing over to where the pawnbroker lies stretched out on the sofa he rubs at his dry lips pensively and stifles a yawn. The bed in the other room is a double, and the Sheriff is hardly one who takes up a lot of space, but the notion of sleeping beside her- drugged or not- had seemed completely out of the question as far as the little man was concerned.

Jefferson muses that he himself shares no such gentlemanly concerns, but is wise enough not to have suggested he himself slumber alongside the blonde.

As such, he now groans at the cramps that course through his body with a sigh. After listening to Gold's take on things, he is unsure exactly what to make of the peculiar young woman, and before settling down to rest- a bottle of whisky, numerous questions, and only an empty house to go back to having kept him in the company of the pawnbroker- he had looked in on her several times.

She had refused the tea the Dark One had presented to her to begin with, but after an agitated threat that if she were to continue doing so he would simply physically force her to drink the steaming beverage, the Sheriff had silently complied. The effects of the tainted leaves had been quick; dark lashes fluttering heavily before tense limbs had visibly relaxed.

Since then, only silence has greeted them from the other room.

Sitting awake now, the hatter finds he is having a hard time corralling his thoughts. Gold's words make sense to him, of course they do, but it is harder than he had thought to sit so close to where the young woman who holds the key to ending his long and undeserved suffering lies and not demand some action to be taken.

A part of him wishes he had gotten rid of her when he'd had the chance.

_I'll bet she'd have put up quite an enjoyable fight, too... _

He had asked the pawnbroker as they journeyed slowly towards slumber what would happen if they were to simply kill both the Savior _and_ the Queen. To rid themselves of Regina, and thus avoid her wrath at the death of the Sheriff. Gold had pondered the thought for only a second before shaking his head and musing thoughtfully.

"No... No that won't do. The Savior owes me a favor, and I refuse to let her out of that one... Death is a brilliant excuse not to do what is required of you... She lives. She will fulfill her debt to me."

_Exactly. To you. But what about _me_? What reason do_ I_ have not to take matters into my own hands..._

Cocking his head to the side, he frowns as he becomes slowly aware of a soft thumping from behind the wall. Throwing a quick glance towards Gold, he pushes himself up from the floor and creeps stealthily towards the bedroom.

* * *

"Henry?"

Regina speaks softly as she slips into the darkness of her son's bedroom. Finding her way over to his bed with practiced ease, she perches gently at the edge of his covers and runs a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

"Mom? What... What's happening?"

"Were you asleep?"

"No... I don't know... I... Did you speak to Emma?"

The boy's question is tinged with bitterness and the brunette sniffs as she shakes her head, moving lightly beneath the covers to lie alongside her son. She is surprised when he places his arms around her waist and she swiftly wraps her own around him, chin resting on his soft locks.

"No. I didn't."

"...Did you look for her?"

"Yes... Henry... I don't think she's missing because of your birthday... I think... I think something's happened..."

"Like what?"

Henry's tone is alight with sudden curiosity and the Mayor laments the blind innocence of youth.

"Like... Something not very good."

"You think Emma's in trouble?"

Curiosity evolves swiftly into something else- something grittier- and she wishes there was a way she could keep this all from him.

And she could.

But the boy has a right to know that the woman he brought back here with him all those months ago and has placed so much faith into hasn't run out on him once again and left him to deal with his wounded feelings alone.

And there's the other thing.

The fairytale thing.

Henry's book.

"I think that it's highly peculiar that the town's Sheriff is nowhere to be found..."

"But... Where would she have gone to? Who would try and get my mom into trouble?"

She winces as she senses part of that sentence he has neglected to say.

_Apart from myself? That's what you're wondering, isn't it, Henry._

"I... I'm not sure yet. But I promise you something, Henry, and I need you to believe me... Whatever has gone on between Miss Swan and myself in the past... I wish no harm to come to her... And I will find out what's happened here today... I _will_ find her."

"Do you.. Do you think she'll be mad at me that I got angry she wasn't around?"

"...No. I don't think she'll be angry with you at all, sweetheart. I think Miss Swan understands better than most the feelings you can get when you think a parent has let you down..."

She places a kiss at the crown of his head gently as she muses silently that it's not just the blonde who knows of such hateful things. Playing soft patterns over the clean cotton of his pajamas, she clears her throat and continues warily.

"Henry... Can I ask you something?"

"Uhuh?"

"What does... What does your book say about Rumplestiltskin?"

"He's a bad man..."

"...As bad as the Queen?"

The boy moves in her arms slowly and peers up at her through the shadows, his eyes narrow and his lip caught between his teeth in a way she decides must be genetic, despite it being a learnt mannerism.

"...Mom..."

"Can I... Can I see the book?"

She feels him tense immediately, and her heart beats painfully fast in her chest. Regarding blown green through the darkness, she lets out a low sigh as Henry moves off her lap and reaches down to pull the heavy book up from beneath the bed.

"Why do you want to know about Rumplestiltskin?"

"I just... I was curious as to how the story was told..."

"... Is this to do with Emma?"

"Your book?"

"... Has Mr Gold tried to hurt my mom?"

"... I... I don't know yet, Henry."

"... Are you... Are you really-"

"-Shh... Try and get some sleep, honey. I'll put this back by your pillow when I'm done, okay?"

"Wait! What's-"

"-Henry... Please. Trust me... Can you do that?"

"... You're really going to help Emma?"

"... I'm going to try."

She offers him a thin smile and slips from the room, not sure she can stand having him look at her with those wide green eyes a second longer.

* * *

Gold wakes with a start, frowning as he tries to place what has caused him to return to the land of the living before taking in a sharp breath when he notices the thin sliver of light shining from the bedroom door. Pushing himself up hurriedly, he grabs his cane and limps over to the other room as swiftly as possible.

"Jefferson!?"

He freezes as he reaches the doorway, eyes wide as he takes in the madman's crouched stance as he hovers over the blonde.

"Step away from her! Now! I warned you about the repercussions of endangering the Savior! Are you-"

"- I'd say that doesn't really matter anymore..."

"What!... What do you mean?!"

"Come see for yourself..."


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N: **_Right, so I took a break from looking for models in order to make myself several gin slings and write another chapter. FYI if any of you are interested in modelling for a shoot or knows anyone who might be interested that lives in/around London UK then PLEASE hit me up so I can spend less time trawling through women and more time writing about... women. I promise I'm not as creepy as that makes me sound. Anyway! Here's a longer chapter to tide you over :)_

* * *

The Pawnbroker limps round to stand beside Jefferson and lets out a low cry. Scarlet streaks smear the blonde's face and bedding from the blood-drenched rags around her wrists where crimson gore paints the exposed skin up to her elbows. Gold muses horrifiedly that the Sheriff looks as though a young child has taken it upon themselves to do her makeup; her eyelids bruised a deep violet and her pale skin having taken on a grayish, chalky pallor, apart from at her cheeks where twin spots of fever stand out in stark relief.

"Emma?!"

No response and he doesn't think it has anything to do with the tea. Placing his calloused hand over her forehead, he hisses through his teeth at the sheer heat emanating from her.

"Damn it! Why didn't you _say_ something?!"

The hatter scowls as the little man yells at him, wiping blood-dirtied fingers on a nearby swatch of bedding with a disgusted wrinkle to his nose.

"You came barging in only a few moments after I did! I heard a noise and came in to check on her, and the woman was in the middle of some sort of seizure! You're a damned_ fool _to have left such injuries unattended!"

"I didn't think she'd get sick so _quickly_!"

"Sick?! She's fucking dying! Look at her! Look at the amount of goddamned blood staining the sheets!"

"_Enough_! Go get some ice!"

"She doesn't need_ ice_! She needs to go to _hospital_!"

"Well she _can't_! Alright?! So shut up and help me bring her fever down!"

Gold snarls as he pulls at the blonde's limp form so that she lies flat on her back. Brushing sweat-dampened hair away from her flushed cheeks, he watches the madman scurry from the room with glittering brown eyes. Growling beneath his breath, he pushes the Sheriff's dress up about her hips clumsily and wrestles her woolen tights down slender legs in attempt to try and keep her cool.

"Oh, you stupid girl! You stupid, _stupid _girl!"

Ignoring the flash of her pale thighs distractedly, the pawnbroker strips the sodden makeshift bandages from the blonde's wrists carefully and yells over his shoulder into the kitchen.

"Where's the damn ice?! Get me a bowl of warm water and some clean fabric while you're out there! There's a shredded shirt next to the sofa! And see if there's any bleach!"

Turning back to the young woman before him, he grimaces at the butchered flesh of her skinny arms nauseously.

"What the hell have you _done_ to yourself, Emma? Oh, god, what have you _done_?!"

He is glad the Sheriff seems completely out for the count, hoping dully that the reason lies in the drugged tea forced upon her and not in the amount of blood she has lost, but unable to say for certain. Glancing up as the younger man reenters the room with a bucket of ice and the remains of the clean, blue shirt he has been using to patch her up, he nods distractedly in his thanks.

"You can't seriously be thinking of using this on her..."

Jefferson states- his tone both unsure and tinged with alarm- as he holds out a residue-crusted bottle of bleach. Gold regards the offering with a furrowed brow, pulling at one of the blonde's arms to expose the delicately veined inside of her elbow.

"The skin's all red... It's infected...I don't have any antiseptic..."

"Then_ get_ some! _Call_ someone! Shit! I don't know! But you can't pour _bleach_ over the woman's arms!"

"You seem mighty concerned for a man willing to _kill _her not half an hour ago!"

"Yes! I want to kill the Savior! I want to get Grace back! But I don't want to torture some poor dumb bitch whose torn her damn arms to shreds! Give me a gun and I'll shoot her in the fucking head! Put her out of her misery! Fine! But I'm not going to just _stand_ here while you inflict that kind of pain on the girl; Savior or not."

"Then what do you want me to do?!"

"Get her some help, Gold! She needs _medical_ help!"

"Fine! Take this..."

The pawnbroker reaches for his ruined jacket which hangs at the end of the bed and plucks a small clip of bills from the breast pocket.

"Go to the hospital and look for a man named Whale-"

"- That's... That's Victor-"

"Yes, but he doesn't _know _that! Find him and tell him that if he comes back with you, this money is his. No questions, and not a word to anyone or he receives nothing. Understand? Tell him to bring whatever medical devices and gadgets will fit in that little suitcase of his, but not a _mention_ of the Sheriff or of her condition! Yes?"

"Yes."

"You better hurry... As had the Queen... Now go! And remember to cover the door back up when you leave!"

Watching as the hatter collects his coat and makes for the door, Gold turns back to Emma and soaks fresh fabric in warm water and cleans away the worst of the blood from her face and arms. He doesn't dare touch the damaged flesh at her wrists in fear of opening up drying wounds, but wraps two strips of fabric loosely in place to protect them. Using the remaining scraps of his shirt, he fills the fabric with ice and creates a makeshift cold-compress before fishing out a loose chip and running cool ice over burning, chapped lips.

"I daresay I'm going to be in a small spot of trouble once the Mayor finds you, dearie. Just promise me you'll hold up until then?... Don't ruin things for me now...This was all for my him... All for my boy... And if you give up on me now, well, then everything was a waste... Not just_ my _life for all these hateful years, Emma, love... But yours too... I don't _regret_ suggesting the Queen cast her curse, Sheriff, but do not think for a second that I take_ joy_ from the fact that in doing so you were raised the way you were... Or _weren't_ as the case turned out to be. It was never _about_ you. It was all for Bae. Magic... Just always comes at a price."

* * *

Regina pulls her nightgown closer to her as she slowly turns the page; dark eyes drinking in curious words as her mind struggles in its battle with her hateful duel realities.

That which she remembers. That which exists on the page.

She has forbidden herself from reading any of the tales that refer to the Queen- to herself- save for those in which her story and that of the golden imp are intertwined. It is a peculiar feeling, reading a narration of events she can recall vividly... Visually. More peculiar still is the way the book serves to fill in the blanks... The parts of the story where she- where the Queen- was busy enjoying her dinner or washing her hair while someone else took centre stage.

Another 'character'.

Most bizarre.

She has learnt a lot since settling down with the heavy hardback and a glass- which all too soon became a bottle- of wine. It is only now though that she finds herself reading the chapters she imagines to be key to this whole situation.

To the curse in general.

She reprimands herself for the hundredth time for not insisting Henry allow her to inspect the book sooner.

Such fancies are fickle, however, and inside, she knows it. The boy would no more have let her read the pages of his book a few weeks ago any more than she would have given the information it yielded the attention she does now.

It seems the Savior needed to be present for more than just the breaking of the curse.

_I need you. I need you. I need you._

As she repeats these words over and over in her mind, she is hatefully reminded of a time not three weeks gone by when she had barged into the younger woman's office unannounced- as was, by then, customary- to find the blonde singing along to some truly awful rock song; long hair tumbling wildly as she had beat out an idiotic drum solo on the desk.

"I want you to want me! I need you to need me! I'd love for you to love me! I'm begging you to beg me-ah!"

Shaking her head to clear such thoughts away, the Mayor sighs as she goes back to her reading.

She had known, of course, that the Dark One's son had disappeared at some time long before she was born. Such a story was legend amongst her people, and certain rumors and whispers had concluded it to be true.

But the way in which Baelfire had lost his papa is something she is finding out only now. And suddenly everything makes a horrible amount of sense.

The curse.

Gold's curious go-between behavior between herself and the Sheriff; a puppet-master between his two starring acts.

Bae is here. In_ this_ land. And everything she had thought was for_ her_ benefit has been for Gold's.

The thought angers her. Infuriates her. Almost ruins her. But as she seethes hatefully within the lonely cavernous space of her drawing room she realizes that one of the reasons it bothers her so is the fact that Emma ended up the pawn in all this. She knows her own heart well enough to be aware that the fact she is even able to _think_ upon such a thing while dealing with her own serving of betrayal goes to show just how much she has grown.

"He needed me to get him here. And now he needs you to bring him his son."

And to know where to send the blonde to look... He will need magic.

Everything she has worked to build up will crumble down.

Snow and Charming and the rest of those hateful idiots that sought to ruin her in that other world will do the same in this.

For she is the Evil Queen.

And they will all know it.

_But it's not just them who will know it- remember it- is it?... No... Henry... And Emma... They will know it too... And to see it with their own eyes will be little like reading about it in a storybook... _

"What happens if I find you... If I get you to love me... Only for you to realize who I really am... _What_ I am..."

_She'll leave you._

_No... No she won't... She can't... Surely..._

_Care to wager on that one? _

_Didn't think so. _

"What will be, will be. I will find her for myself and I will find her for Henry. If... If she needs my help... I will give it to her... Even if the consequences end up hurting my best interests in the process... I will do what I can to help her."


	69. Chapter 69

**A/N: **_And I had so hoped chapter 69 would be involve a little more fun for these two... Oh well. I guess they'll have to earn it._

* * *

At some point after the hatter's departure to go find help- while he is working the fifth chip of ice gently over flushed flesh and dry lips- Gold growls, startled, as the blonde gives a fitful start and begins to hyperventilate and thrash beside him. For a second, he believes she is suffering some sort of seizure, but when her hand travels shakily up to bat his own away from her face and her brow furrows distractedly, he realizes she is just entering a hazily confused state of consciousness and breathes a sigh of relief.

"Wha'dy' doin...'Gina?"

Her words are husky and slurred, but he has no trouble deciphering the name she proffers to his gentle attentions. Frowning deeper, he pulls fever-damp hair away from her face and places the back of his hand worriedly against her forehead as she squirms lethargically on the bed.

"Emma?"

"What?!"

The cool brutality to her tone surprises him, and he can't help but smirk at the way her mannerisms remain so innately _Emma,_ whether she has a clue what's going on or not. Wetting his hand with the frigid water that soaks the remains of the ice to his right, he wipes the chilled residue gently over her fevered cheeks as her eyelashes flutter slowly and bleary green regards him in confusion.

"You...?"

"I'm afraid so, dearie."

"Where's... wh-ere's... Mad'm... Mu... Regin-a?"

"... She'll be here soon, pet... She'll be here very soon... First we need to sort you out, though, sweetheart... You've done quite a job of your arms... Do you remember?"

"...Hurts...?"

"Yes, I imagine it does... Do you think you could manage some water?"

"... Where's... 'Gina?"

"... Never mind that right now, Emma, come on, help me sit you up, you need to drink."

"No... Hurt?"

"I know, dearie! I know! Shhh now, we'll sort you out, just sit up..."

"No!"

Gold sighs in exasperation, raising an eyebrow as the Sheriff seems to do the same. Peering at her pensively, comprehension suddenly alights his severe features and he shakes his head slowly, wrestling with her slim frame so that she sits supported against him in the hopes she will be able to choke down a little fluid.

"Shh, relax, Emma. No... Regina isn't hurt. She's okay, lovey, she's just fine."

"H-Henry?"

"Henry too... Everyone's fine."

The pawnbroker sighs uncomfortably as he holds the young woman awkwardly in the crook of his arm, his other hand petting her thigh distractedly as her forehead burns against his cheek. At his insistence that both the brunette and the boy are fine, she sinks into him weakly, her head lolling within the cradle of his shoulder. Reaching out for the glass of water he has placed beside the bed, he lifts it to her lips carefully, tipping it just a little to coax her to swallow while keeping her from choking on it.

Still, a fair amount of the cooling liquid runs down her jaw in freshets, glistening over the frail bones of her sternum.

Pushing the glass away when the Sheriff gives a weak shake of her head, Gold lays her back against the pillows gently and checks the delicate dressings to her wrists.

"I called a doctor... I can't let you go to the hospital... Not now... But he'll take care of you... Hell... Why did you have to go and_ do_ this to yourself, dearie, _why_?!"

"Why'd-id _you_... I... Why?"

"... It was the only way I could think of to get what I wanted... Had I known you'd... Had I known you were going to react in such a way... I know a bad trip down memory lane when I see it, Miss Swan... Me... I find myself revisiting those times I loathe to think on and I dream of all the ways I can make those responsible suffer... I would have thought we were kindred spirits, dearie, but alas... It seems you have yet to face your demons... I imagine that was an arrest all those years back that went very wrong indeed..."

"No... You... Shut up now..."

"Wrong to unspeakable levels given what you were willing to do to break free of those cuffs..."

"S-top."

"Emma, you-"

"No more... No...So... So hot..."

The Sheriff exemplifies her words as she moves to pull distractedly at the hem of her dress; her pale skin glistening with perspiration. Frowning, the little man pulls her thick hair away from her forehead and neck, his expression wary as he takes in the scarlet hue pinpricking her sallow cheeks.

"I know, dearie, I know. Here- I'll get you more ice-"

"-Off... Want it off!"

She plucks fretfully at the soiled cotton of her dress and the graying pawnbroker stops her swiftly as he cringes at her fitful movements. Swallowing with an obscenely surreal awkwardness, he locates the narrow zip at the back of her dress and clears his throat as he shakes her gently to try and get her full attention.

"Okay, okay, I'll take it off... Are you... Are you sure you want me to?"

"_Hate_ dresses..."

He supposes it's as close to a solid answer as he's going to get and so hesitantly lowers the delicate zipper and pulls the dirtied white fabric gently from her small frame. Noting the crude scar that lines her taut stomach with distracted interest, he glances up at her face warily, but she remains focused on nothing in particular, lids heavy and long lashes casting obscure shadows across her face.

"What the hell happened to you, dearie...?"

"Told her... t-told her I did it to myself... T-told her... Not why... D-don't... Don't"

"Don't what, Emma?"

"Don't you touch me."

"...I won't. Just stay with me, ok, and we'll get you sorted out."

"... Hate you..."

"Yes... I imagine you do..."

"F-fuck you!"

"... If you say so, Sheriff. If you say so."

* * *

The Mayor wakes with a start as the echoes of desperate knocking to the front door crash about her thunderously. Wrapping her nightgown firmly about her slender frame and slipping from the drawing room, she hurries towards the door with wide eyes; thinking for a moment the fists beating restlessly at painted wood must surely belong to the blonde.

Pulling back the door, her shoulders slump in recognition.

"Miss Lucas?"

The waitress's face glistens with rain and her long hair hangs in sodden clumps about her pale cheeks.

"I found something! I think I found something!"

Regina beckons the younger woman in swiftly, taking her sodden coat before she can even second-guess the gesture, and leading her back into the drawing room, lest their voices wake Henry from what is presumably already a fitful slumber.

"What do you mean?"

Bright eyes regard her desperately and the Mayor is aware within some dark corner of her mind how curious it is that the waitress has come to her alone, and, seemingly, in favor of going to the schoolteacher.

"Emma filed documents for the storm... I kept thinking about it... But I couldn't think _why_ it kept _bothering_ me so much!"

"... I'm sorry?"

"Yeah! I just couldn't grasp it, you know! So I went to the Station-"

"- You were able to access the Station?"

"Well I kind of have a key-"

"-_You have a key_?!"

"The deputy's key... For like... Helping with paper work and stuff, and in case Emma locks herself out, and-"

"-You mean to tell me the Sheriff gave you a key to allow you free reign of the Station-"

"-That's not the point! Listen! I went to the Station to try and figure this all out... I mean... I didn't know what else to do... And... I just... I wanted to be there, you know? So I went and I kept looking at those gray filing cabinets she has behind the desk and they were just _bugging_ me!... I know I shouldn't have done it- or even know where she keeps the key- but I do, and I did, and... I found this!"

Ruby holds out a slim plastic wallet holding several legal documents that seem hatefully familiar. Taking them from the brunette with a wary glance, Regina pulls them out for a closer look and freezes as her breath catches in her throat, recognizing them to be the very same papers she had flicked past before finding the documents that had lead to her own despicable actions. Clearing her throat and running a hand through her hair, she frowns as she rifles through them.

"What... What about them?"

"Read them... It took me _ages_ to get it too... It was like one of those puzzles they sometimes have in the paper... The ones where you _know_ the clues are all there but you don't even really know what you're looking for... I remember, because Emma was in such a shitty mood about filing them so I offered to do it myself... She watched me to make sure I didn't screw up, and then I remember her finding this one thing on there odd... All of the property damage claims were either about the shop or Gold's house... Except this one..."

The Mayor frowns as she studies the sheet the younger woman points to with a red-chipped nail.

"Weather and natural damage caused to window and roof of... 31 B Main Street?... Where's 31 B Main Street?"

"I don't know... 30-33 Main Street is an apartment building but it's separated into numbered flats... I don't know what the B stands for... It's not on the call buttons... But... Do you think... Do you think it's something?"

"I suppose we're about to find out..."


	70. Chapter 70

**A/N:** _Sorry this whole drama has gone on a little long- I kind of screwed up with what I want to do so I need to build things together slowly to achieve what I want. Hopefully it's not getting boring?! In the meantime though... I realise it has been quite some time without a Swan Queen scene, and I want to do a one-shot to break up all of the crap that keeps happening to these two! So! My request to _you_ guys, is if you leave a review (thank you!) I'd love any one word prompts anyone has and I'll pick one and give it a go tonight. :)_

* * *

"Good God..."

The doctor stands frozen in the doorway as he struggles to comprehend the scene before him. Gold sits awkwardly in chaotically creased clothes on the throw of a dingy, blood-dirtied bed, his hair sticking up ludicrously as he stares down at the _Sheriff_ of all people; the woman lying bloodied and bare but for simple cotton underwear.

"What the hell's going on!?"

He turns wide-eyed to Jefferson, who simply shrugs as he pops up from behind, raising an amused eyebrow at the blonde's semi-clad state.

"Don't ask, don't tell, Dr Whale, is the name of the game. All you need to know is that your very future may just rest in getting this young woman better, so I'd suggest you start sorting her out if I were you."

Whale balks slightly at the Pawnbroker's rough tone, edging closer to the bed uncertainly. He has seen numerous injuries while studying his profession, but this... Well, this is something else entirely.

"Is she... Has she been communicative at all?"

"Wh-why don't you just... ask _me_... dumbass..."

The Sheriff grumbles irritably- her eyes remaining closed and her breathing dangerously shallow- and the madman lets out a short bark of laughter. Raising his eyebrow, Gold turns to the doctor who blushes in his confusion.

"Yes. I'd say she's more or less communicative."

"I see."

Placing the small bag which contains all he could think of to bring from the hospital, Whale moves to sit on the bed, clearing his throat as he tries to ignore the little man that perches opposite him, but Gold shows little sign of moving from the blonde's side.

"I'm going to take off these... uh... dressings, Miss Swan... It may sting a little..."

"Pretty s-sure I can handle it, asshole."

Frowning at the gleeful smirk Jefferson offers from the corner, the doctor plucks the soiled cotton gently away from her wrists and hisses through his teeth.

"Jesus..."

"Fix her."

"I... I mean... Her _hand_... I can't just-"

"-You can. And you will. Never mind her hand right now. Set it. Stitch it up. Do whatever you need to do. I don't _care _if she's never going to be able to take up playing the fucking piano. Just make it so that she at least has a chance to at least begrudge that fact."

"Sh-it at piano..."

"Well, there you go. Fix her."

Whale looks from Emma to the graying pawnbroker and frowns, leaning forward to better inspect her injuries before pulling a pair of thin, latex gloves from his pocket and reaching for his bag.

"How long ago did this happen? She should have been brought to the hospital straight away! I mean... She... She's lucky she hasn't bled out! And here, look, her right arm's infected and her first and second metacarpals are completely shattered! I can... I can set her hand... But there's a good chance she'll have limited use of her fingers as you've left it so _long_... As for the wounds... Really... She needs blood... But... The human body is resilient... I will clean them and close them, but, without anesthetic... Sheriff, this isn't going to be much fun I'm afraid..."

"B-because up 'til now... i-it's been a walk in the p-ark!?"

"I think the Sheriff is giving you her go ahead, Whale. As am I. Do what needs to be done. I just want her alive. And I want her coherent."

"I... I l-like those odds too..."

Whale nods, offering the blonde what he hopes resembles a reassuring smile as her eyes flutter open to regard him blearily. Judging from the scowl she manages to muster, he guesses his attempt has fallen a little short.

"Alright, dearie, let's see what the good doctor can do."

Beckoning that the hatter should accompany him out of the room, Gold limps out through the door to leave the doctor in peace.

"You're sure you can trust him not to just blurt this all out when he leaves?"

"... I never said anything about letting him leave."

* * *

"No answer?"

Ruby enquires tentatively as the Mayor slams the phone back down in its cradle.

"I don't understand! Where the hell_ is_ he?!"

"Well... It's like the middle of the night... Maybe he-"

"-Miss Lucas, it could be the man's own _funeral_ and Mr Glass would make it his priority to attend to my needs... You want to know what_ I_ think? I think the bastard is _drunk_! I think the lowly no-good piece of-"

"-Maybe!... Ok... Maybe he is... But _whatever_ the reason... He's not answering the phone."

"_Well that's not good enough!_"

The older woman cries angrily, slamming her hand down forcefully on the table between them.

The table both she, and Emma, have explored each other on. Glancing over at the silver letter-opener that peeks hauntingly at her from its stationary pot, she shudders.

"I can't... I need to go look... I can't just _sit_ here."

"Look... I'll go check the building, okay? You can trust me! You stay here with Henry and I'll call you as soon as I-"

"-No."

"Why_ 'no'?_ Why?"

"Because it has to be me."

"Regina... I know you feel-"

"_Quiet!_ You know _nothing_ about how I feel! I _accept_ that a woman you call a friend- a_ good_ friend- is missing, and I imagine that's a terrible thought, but it is in_ no_ way the same as how I feel... It _has_ to be me. _I_ have to find her!"

"So... What? I'm supposed to just wait till morning when you find yourself a babysitter to go look for her!? And _then_ what?! If anything bad happens to her, I just apologize and say 'Gee, _I'm_ sorry, Emma, but it turns out we were playing a game of who loves you more, and Regina won and I'-"

"_Shut your mouth you foolish, ridiculous gir_l! No! I will _not_ have such insolence in this house! It has to be me that finds her because that woman, along with Henry, is the closest I have to a family, and if something happens to her, then I risk losing not just Emma, but him as well! If something happens to her..._ I_ need to be the one that stops it... It has to be_ me_ because I... I have to prove how I feel..."

"To who!?"

"_Emma_!"

"Emma _knows_ how you feel! You both love each other very much, and while that's just_ great_, I don't think it's a good enough reason to-"

"-No. We don't. And that's _precisely_ the reason I need to do this. She needs to understand what went on here tonight... That people sat and fought and fretted about her. That she _matters_. That she_ is_ loved... I can't let it be you who makes her realize that... I just... Can't..."

The waitress shakes her head in frustration, but proceeds to regard the older woman with silent respect as dark eyes glitter with tears and the Mayor's usually impeccable composure comes crashing all the way down as she puts her head in her hands, her mouth trembling tellingly under the shadows cast by her palms.

"Okay... It has to be you... Fine. Then go. Go find her."

"I _can't_! Henry-"

"-Will be fine. He's asleep... And besides... If he wakes up... I'm good with kids."

"You're... What?"

Regina raises her head slowly, her eyes pink and face white. Ruby smiles at her sweetly.

"Just go... You're right. It has to be you."

"You'll... You're going to..."

"I'm going to stay here and try to get some sleep on this sofa, and if Henry wakes up or cries out or anything like that, I'll deal with him."

"... You will?"

"Of course! I'd do it for Emma... So I guess... I'll do it for you. Just... Promise me you'll find her, okay?"

"... I will... I will find her if I have to burn this hateful town to the ground..."

If she had expected Ruby to treat such melodrama with a sarcastic retort or giggle, she had expected wrong. The waitress merely nods, expression grave and mouth drawn.

She has no doubt the brunette means every word.

And _that's_ why it has to be Regina.

* * *

"Hold_ still_, I'm almost done."

"I _am_ holding still! Stop going so fucking _slow_!"

Whale glares up at the blonde as the young woman watches him work with gritted teeth and glittering eyes. He has learnt in the last half an hour that the Sheriff is quite the force to be reckoned with; weak with blood-loss and fever or not. She seems almost oblivious to the pain she must surely feel as the sharp flash of the needle works with practiced precision through her broken flesh; seeming more intent on growling at him than with biting back the screams of agony he would have expected given her condition.

"You're s-supposed to be working o-on my _arms_..."

"I _am_ working on your arm..."

"Then qu-quit f-fucking looking at the rest of me!"

He scowls at her irritably, but can't deny that he has rarely gone about his work in the presence of such a splendid view.

_If you don't want me looking at you, then don't look that way in your fucking underwear, doll-face... Because you are one tight, fuckable little piece of-_

"_Ah_! What the fuck are you _doing_!?"

She yells at him, teeth flashing in a primal display of defense as the needle dips in just a little too rough and a little too deep.

"I'm doing my goddamned job! I didn't realize you were a _doctor_, Sheriff, I didn't realize you knew how to do this _better_ than me-"

"-I know when someone's butchering a p-piss easy job! I've had fucking stitches before, you asshole!"

His eyes wander briefly to the scar at her ribs and she snarls at him angrily.

"Yes... It looks like you're somewhat of a veteran..."

"Fuck you..."

It's low, and for that he is glad. This pattern to the Sheriff's behavior has become somewhat predictable; a schizophrenic natural disaster of hate and rage before she tires herself out and succumbs to pain for a few minutes in which he carries on his work in silence.

"Where... Where are we?"

He glances up distractedly, her words a low whisper, her eyes flickering nervously to the door, and he comes to the sudden realization that a vast amount of the crap she has given him since being left to deal with her alone has been an act. Well. Partially. Now, as she speaks in a voice so low he has to lean towards her to make out her fear-filled words, he frowns, desisting with the needle.

"How do you mean?"

"Where is this p-place?"

"You don't know?"

"Would I be fucking _asking_ if I did?"

"How can you not know!? Miss Swan... What the _hell_ is going on here? What _happened_?!"

"I don't know... I d-don't know... I... Please just tell me..._Help_ me... _Please_?"

"Of course I will, but Emma, I mean, what the hell is-"

"How's she doing?"

The pawnbroker sweeps into the room with more grace than a man with a cane should possess, dark eyes finding the blonde's and piercing her sternly. She looks away, lashes fluttering and limbs instantly weak, but she suspects it may be too little too late.

"You're looking better, dearie..."


	71. Chapter 71

**A/N: **_Here you gooooo. I really hope I did an okay job of this :) Please let me know what you think!_

_Also, thanks to everyone that sent me a word prompt for a SQ one-shot to kind of break up the drama. I decided to go with **'Shots'** (and would be stoked if you gave it a read, it's uploaded and finished... unless otherwise requested) but have plans to work on several more of your suggestions when I have a chance._

* * *

Regina stands outside the dingy apartment block with a frown on her face. She knows the geography of the town as though it were the back of her hand, and so realizes that the apartments at the backside of the building will overlook Gold's shop. What she is perplexed by, is the fact that the three large cement blocks that were once- in a time she knows nothing about- numbered individually from 30 to 33, have long since existed under the collective address of Elstead Place. The separate residences inside numbered one through ten.

No letters.

No 31 B.

She is certain that this is the place however, now that she sees the opportunistic viewpoint as a factor. She _knows_ it to be the place. Gold is sly, and possesses a vanity when it comes to his own cunning. He will have chosen the building for its location so as to keep an eye on the shop.

To watch as she and the others had failed miserably the other night and fallen into his trap. His decoy.

She is confused by the address on the insurance claims, but she will be damned if she is going to be thwarted by it. Pulling her sleek black coat firmly into place, she marches up to the first of the three doors and slips her skeleton key into the lock, her eyes flashing at the chilling click of metal on metal. Slipping inside, she stalks down the musty hallway slowly, raising her fist to knock on the first of the peeling doors, her other hand hidden within her silk-lined pocket as she fingers the butt of her gun.

* * *

"Go, get us something to eat... Get some juice for our young Sheriff as well; something sugary and calorific. If she doesn't feel like eating, it will tide her over."

Jefferson nods irritably, unsure at what point he has become the pawnbroker's lapdog within the past thirty odd hours. He is more or less unfazed by the turn of events, finding his present company a favorable change from the monotony of his solitude at home, but he grows weary of the little man's frequent threats. He supposes he will simply let such things slide until they become directed towards himself.

For now, he remains in Gold's good books, having complied with the pawn broker's orders to dose the slippery young doctor, and has since then been left well enough alone, their alternating watch of the blonde uneventful and not worth arguing about.

He is glad that Gold has insisted they leave the Sheriff unrestrained following the disastrous conclusion of the last effort to do so. As a result, they are taking it in turns to sit in on her to make sure she behaves as she should, and he is growing quite fond of the young woman. She amuses him greatly, and her caustic remarks to his rambled monologues have him breaking into sporadic gales of laughter which she finds so hilariously alarming.

She had grown _particularly_ nasty when he had broached the topic of her role within the Queen's dark curse; hissing at him that she didn't know who the hell he was, or why he's been talking to her boy, but that he should shut off his lunatic ramblings before she shut them off for him. This cold threat had left him giggling madly as he had regarded her weak and wounded form laid out on the bed to the point where the pawnbroker had come limping in to tell him to shut up. Frowning as the blonde had voiced her irritation at the subject of conversation, Gold had insisted he leave the matter alone. And he had. Unwillingly.

Now, offering the Sheriff a brief wave despite the fact she seems to be dozing, he slips from the room and dons his coat, nodding curtly at the pawnbroker who takes his vacated seat.

"How are you feeling, dearie?"

Gold inquires softly as he listens to the front door click quietly shut. His words are met by silence and he shrugs, unalarmed. The blonde's precarious condition has seemed to improve quite a bit since her injuries have been properly seen to and her right hand carries a stiff splint; the fractured shards of bone no longer grating in a way he imagines was horrifically sickening. He is unsurprised that she should finally be taken by natural sleep.

He had been caught off guard and suspicious upon catching her whispering to the doctor, but she has shown no further signs of trickery, simply sufficing to glare up at him hatefully when in his presence, which he supposes is to be expected.

"Not long yet, I imagine, Miss Swan..."

The Sheriff keeps her eyes purposefully closed, resisting the urge to frown as Gold's words swim about her mind darkly.

_Not long till what? What the fuck have you got planned _now_ you little psychopath? Not long... No... That doesn't sound good... Not good at all... _

She has overheard enough snippets of the men's conversations to understand this all has something to do with Henry's_ book_ of all things, some sort of means of proof, and the Mayor.

Regina.

She is becoming more and more concerned that the brunette is going to play a part in this madness too, and the thought terrifies her. She doesn't know what in the world the hateful pawnbroker wants with her, but she has even less of a clue what he would want with Regina, and such thoughts bring back the Mayor's concerned frown as she had stated fearfully that she didn't wish for Gold to have anything he could hold over her. She is aware that she appears to be missing a crucial part of the puzzle, but decides it doesn't really matter.

If the maniac wants to fuck with her then that's just too bad and there's only so much she can do about it.

She finds, though, that when the stakes point to Gold going after _Regina_... Fucking with Regina... Such pathetic acceptance just won't cut it.

She won't degrade her situation by thinking of her actions as taking this madness lying down, but she is made curiously aware of just how complacent she has become in regards to her own situation by the almost unbearable rage that courses through her at the thought of the little man laying a finger on the brunette.

It surprises her.

It frightens her.

It exhilarates her.

She has asked to use the bathroom twice now since Whale's attention to her injuries, simply nodding at the harsh threat in her ear that the room's window has been nailed shut and that any 'funny business' would be punished.

At first Gold had refused to let her go in with the door shut at all, but she had argued vehemently against such pointless humiliation.

She had argued because it is what is expected from her. As far as she's concerned, if the old asshole wants to watch her pee he can knock himself out.

But that wasn't the reason for her request.

She had wanted to gage the state of her body; wanted to see if her legs would remain compliant after they gave up on her back in the bedroom. They had, and she had been relieved to find that despite becoming sickeningly dizzy, the trip to the dingy little room had been entirely manageable. Once inside with the door shut, she had grimaced and performed a series of stretches determinedly; her vision swimming and her stomach threatening to give up its contents, but her actual muscles responding quickly and thankfully.

Knowing that she possesses the strength to leave the bed if she has to, her efforts are now trained on keeping this information well guarded from the little man. She had stumbled purposefully on her return from her second trip, and has learnt that by digging her wrists surreptitiously into the ill-sprung mattress, the resulting pain has her momentarily light-headed and chalk-faced, something which the madman had cooed over gently with sickening sympathy.

Eyelashes flickering as she hears Gold move in his chair, she cracks her lids open as little as possible and watches as he rises to go stand in the window to stretch his back. Realizing that with Jefferson gone and with Whale- seriously what kind of fucked up scam_ is_ this- lying drugged up and unconscious in the next room, that this is perhaps her best chance, she decides to take it.

Her heart beats nervously, and, despite her ingrained refusal to admit such a thing, she accepts that for the second time since waking up in this shit hole, she is terrified.

But that doesn't matter right now.

"_Not long yet, I imagine..."_

No. If things are going to close in on Regina, then she needs to suck it up and deal with it.

_You touch her, you're dead you little shit._

Grinding both wrists excruciatingly into the mattress, she gives a second of blind hope that she's watched enough medical shows in her time to pull this off, before forcing an intense tremor through her limbs, shaking and thrashing fitfully on the bed as she hears Gold turn at the noise with a cry, uneven footsteps hurrying over.

* * *

"Damn it!"

The brunette cries as she makes her way from the final shitty apartment; not bothering to offer an apology to the sleep-hazy patrons who had stepped back, alarmed, as the Mayor marched past them to inspect their flat.

She is mentally exhausted, having checked each of the apartments overlooking the store despite knowing in her heart that she would be unsuccessful.

Flat 31 B.

What the hell does it _mean_.

The only use of the letter B apart from as a consecutive form of address she can think of is 'Basement'. She is unsure whether this block of flats even _has_ a basement, but she finds the idea of the blonde being kept underground to be highly unlikely for couple of reasons.

The location of the building would be wasted should Gold not be able to spy on his shop.

The insurance claims the waitress had presented her with had been for damage to the roof and windows.

"Well... What_ other_ options do you have right now..."

_None. _

No. none. But she isn't quite willing to accept that yet, and so makes her way down to the lower hallway in search for a door to the basement.

After five minutes of fruitless searching, she slams her fist against the wall angrily, concluding that the damn building doesn't appear to even have a lower level. Shaking her head and trying to keep the frustration that prickles in her dark eyes at bay, she slips from the building with gritted teeth.

Closing her eyes as the soothing chill of the winter air ghosts across her face, she pauses for a moment, trying to pull herself together. A small noise to her left has her lashes flying open, and she takes in a sharp breath as she makes out the retreating form of a man hurrying off in the direction of Main Street. Frowning, she peers back towards the building and wonders where the curious figure must have come from. Following slowly, she finds herself distracted as she glances to her side and notes a crooked hatch of rotting wood lining the drainpipe of the building at a slant.

A wood shaft.

Ignoring the inner voice in her head that screams at her to step away from such a dirty place, she pulls back the unusually large slats of wood slowly and ducks into the darkness beneath.

"Emma...?"

Her heart beats furiously as she feels around the dirty brickwork for some form of light switch, telling herself over and over that it makes no sense that Emma would be down in a place like this.

She prays she's right.

She is desperate to find the Sheriff, but this place is dark and cold and her mind conjures despicable images of rats and roaches crawling over the bare concrete floor. She can't stand the thought of the younger woman being cooped up in a place like this.

"_Ah_!"

She retracts her wandering hand fearfully as something ghosts against her flesh, before letting out a nervous breath as she recognizes it for what it is.

A pull cord.

Pulling at the flimsy cord with baited breath, she blinks as the small space is illuminated with dirty yellow light. Raising an eyebrow in surprise, she finds her imagining of the place to have been vastly fear-driven. The small cubby leads to a set of narrow stairs, which in turn lead to what she is astounded to find _is_ a basement. The empty space has been kept scrupulously clean, despite the damp chill in the air, and is sparsely littered with a collection of neatly labelled boxes and forlorn trunks. Freezing as her gaze falls upon a narrow white door which lines the far wall, Regina closes her eyes, willing herself to just go on that little bit further.

Making her way nervously over, she pulls open the door and finds herself faced with another narrow staircase. Leaning against the wall, she holds her breath and counts to ten, banishing the fear that courses through her blood.

* * *

"Emma?!"

Gold looks on, horrified, as the Sheriff seizes fitfully before his eyes. Hurrying over, he reaches out for her nervously, completely unsure how such a situation should be handled.

"Hey! _Hey_! No! Come on! Don't do this!"

The blonde feels a weak relief at his muttering in that she has managed to pull off her thrashing convincingly.

_And now for the money shot._

She keeps her broken shaking going just a little longer as cold fingers bury themselves hatefully into the smooth flesh of her arms in an attempt to hold her still, before freezing rigidly and then relaxing with a low exhalation of breath.

She doesn't take another in.

Lying impossibly still, she forbids her chest from rising back up, and keeps her limbs macabrely limp.

"Sheriff?... _Emma?!_"

Gold shouts, shaking her as though she were a rag doll, and she makes a mental note to add it to the list of reasons she's doing this. Refusing to react to his rough ministrations, she waits for the inevitable, and feels a deep wave of relief as the pawnbroker finally leans over beside her- resting his cane against the bed- and bends down to check her pulse while dropping his head to her chest.

Moving with vicious speed, the blonde crashes against his brow with her own, sending the little man stumbling backwards in surprise, his right eye squinting shut as warm blood trickles down his face from a split to his eyebrow.

"What are you-"

But she cuts him off.

She has little command over her hands, and so simply throws her body against his, sending them both landing in a painful heap on the floor. She is high on adrenalin though, and despite her current state, she is naturally athletic, and this now pays in her favor as she had gambled it would. Scrambling up from the floor, she kicks at him ruthlessly, paying no notice of the pained pleading he chokes up at her, before honing in her aim and plunging him into darkness with a swift blow to the head. In her anger she reaches for the cane that rests beside the bed, but her fingers refuse to grip at the slender black wood as firmly as she's like, so she simply spits at the unconscious body of the pawnbroker as she stands over him trying to get her breath back.

She is vaguely aware that she has torn some of the sutures in her wrists as warm blood trickles lazily down her left arm from beneath her bandages but she finds she doesn't really give much of a fuck.

"Fucking asshole."

Her rage is quickly dampened by fear, as down below she makes out the faint click of the door opening and closing.

_No. No, that's not fair. Not yet. I won one. I'm supposed to get away. That's not_ fair!_  
_

She holds no illusion that she is in a fit state to take on the madman. With Gold, it had been a case of tricking him. With Jefferson, she stands no chance of beating him in a fair fight. Eyes wide and breath ragged, she shakes her head in childish refusal to accept her situation, tears of frustration spilling out onto her cheeks.

"Fuck..."

She reacts belatedly, casting a glance down at the bed before sprinting shakily into the bathroom and silently closing the door. She is immediately glad she hadn't been foolish enough to crawl beneath the bed, knowing full well that with the way her head is currently swimming blackly, she would never have been able to scramble free once found.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..."

* * *

Regina steps into the silent apartment nervously. The place is small and ill-kept, the walls peeling paint and the furniture shabby. She doubts Gold uses it for much. Moving forward slowly, she gasps as her dark eyes fall upon the prone silhouette of the doctor as he slumbers on the sofa. The dirty rag in his mouth and its twin curled around his wrists leave her doubting that Whale poses her any threat, but also serve to feed her fear of the pawnbroker ten-fold.

Slipping through the small room towards what she guesses to be the bedroom, she stills her breathing nervously and pushes the door gently open, her eyes flashing in apprehension.

"_What_?!..."

It is barely a whisper, but it sounds horrifically loud to her own ears. Clamping her hand swiftly over her mouth, she stares down at the limp body of the pawnbroker in shock. Gold's brow sports a scarlet smear of blood, but other than his frail, floor-bound state, he seems otherwise unharmed.

Which leaves her struggling to control her fear as her gaze falls to the bloodied sheets that lay strewn upon the bed.

"Emma?"

She mouths silently, willing herself to blink the maroon stains to dirty sheets away as there seems to be an impossible amount of red glaring back at her. Shaking her head, she struggles not to panic- struggles to keep her thoughts sane- as she tries to comprehend the scene before her.

Gold lies unconscious and beaten.

The doctor lies captive.

So where is the blonde?

Jumping as she hears the telling click of the door, she hurries stealthily over to the window only to find it nailed shut. Turning back towards the bedroom door, she swallows as she stands with her back against the wall.

"...Emma?"

Her croaked whisper is quiet, laced with childish hope.

The heavy footsteps that sound from the other room have her heat sinking in her chest. The Sheriff is hardly one to move with exceptional grace, but there is no way a woman of a hundred and twenty odd pounds could be making that noise, boots or no boots.

As the owner of the footsteps comes progressively closer, she slips her hand into her coat pocket and shakily pulls out her gun, her lips forming a nervous bloodless line.

* * *

Jefferson glances disinterestedly at the doctor slumbering on the sofa. He is unsure just how potent the tea force-fed to Whale had been, simply because he hadn't taken the time to measure the ingredients out. With Emma, it had been a meticulous task; knowing that should he get it wrong and cause her any sort of harm or adverse affects, Gold would be on his tail. With the young man on the sofa... Who really gives a fuck?

The small paper bag he carries from the all night convenience store rustles pleasantly against his chest as he moves to pull his coat off before making his way over to the bedroom.

"Hey, Emma, I didn't know if you liked apple juice or grape so I got you orange instead. I-"

His words trail off as he takes in the scene before him, eyes flashing down to Gold before finding the brunette with a frown of confusion which she matches as she trains her gun to his chest.

"...You...?"

* * *

Emma grits her teeth in frustration as she searches the medicine cabinet desperately, coming up empty handed. She's not sure what in the hell she's looking for, but she guesses she'd feel a whole lot better about her current predicament should she be holding a razor blade than not.

Her heartbeat is loud in her ears and she wishes it would shut the hell up because she's having a hard time concentrating on the noises from beyond the door, confused by what had sounded like the door opening and closing yet again.

_Imagining things, Swan, you're going nuts. Just hold your shit together a little longer and things will all be just peachy. The fucker will open the door and you'll... you'll... Fuck knows. Floss him to death. Drown him with mouthwash..._

_Yeah... You're fucking dead._

"No. He's not getting me that easy."

She mutters fiercely, negating to take the thought any further as she knows full well she hasn't got a plan.

Stilling as she hears heavy footsteps take off in the direction of the bedroom, she closes her eyes, waiting for the aftermath of the madman's discovery.

_"...You...?"_

Green eyes flash open as she recognizes the low voice from the other room. Clutching onto the sink as her knees buckle beneath her, she forces her body to behave and wrestles with the lock on the door.

* * *

_"...You?..."_

Regina's voice is raw with disbelief, unable to comprehend just how twisted this whole thing seems to have become. First Whale, now Jefferson?!

The hatter nods, dropping his bag of candy bars and juice boxes to the floor, as he grins manically down the barrel of the Mayor's gun. With one more flickering glance towards Gold, he steps forwards towards the brunette purposefully, his keen eyes glistening as he wonders just how long it will take for the stupid bitch to realize she still has the safety on in her fear.

Amateur.

Regarding the madman with wide eyes, the Mayor wills her voice to remain assertive.

"Where's Emma?"

The hatter glances to the bed disinterestedly as he carries on moving leisurely towards the brunette, smirking as she pushes herself firmly up against the wall.

"Gone? See for yourself..."

He points vaguely over to the bed where the Mayor notes with growing alarm the twin silver cuffs that hang empty from the posts.

"Tell me!"

"Or you'll what? You'll shoot me?"

He runs at her without warning and she pulls the trigger on instinct, eyes flashing with fear when nothing happens. Dropping the gun with a cry of rage, she yelps as Jefferson closes in on her, dodging past him by sheer luck as she ducks beneath his arm and sprints for the door.

"Oh, I don't think so..."

The tone of his voice is enough to still her in her tracks, and when she turns slowly to face him, she knows before she sees it that he has found possession of the gun she so foolishly allowed to slip from her grasp.

"Jefferson... Let's talk about this... I... I can help you.. I can help you with your daughter, with _Grace_. I-"

"Shut up! You _had_ your chance! There isn't a single reason I shouldn't kill you where you stand! You left me to rot! You left my daughter without a father!"

"It doesn't matter... Don't you see... If you kill me now... You'll never see her again... She will _never_ know who you are..."

"You see... _That's_ where you're wrong..."

Jefferson shakes his head, laughing pityingly as he regards the dark woman with twinkling eyes. She is wrong. Gold may have warned him about killing the Mayor due to his own unsettled deal with the troublesome little blonde, but Gold is currently lying flat on his back with his head in the clouds.

_Feisty little princess. All the more fun._

Gold's concerns are exactly that. But he is Jefferson, the hatter, completely mad if some are to be believed, and he couldn't give a shit about some deal made with the Sheriff. If he kills the brunette, the Queen dies. If he shoots the pawnbroker, the Dark One vanishes. Then all he needs to do is hunt down the Savior- and he doubts it'll be too hard to find a wounded woman staggering around town in her underwear- and blow her fucking brains out.

Then Grace will be his.

Forever.

"No... I'm not wrong. You need me!"

"No. I don't."

The gun goes off and the brunette gives out a cry as she falls to the hardwood floor.

It takes her a split second to realize that it is not pain that courses through her, but surprise, and she struggles fitfully to pull herself from the irritable weight that pins her to the floor.

Her endeavors are thwarted, however, when pale hands hold her firmly in place, the bony limbs digging into her ribs and side painfully moving to lie flush on top of her as she remains sprawled on the floor, her vision suddenly obscured by a veil of dirty golden curls.

A second gunshot echoes through the room, and she screams as this one sounds much closer than the first.

And then a moment's silence, broken only by the heavy thud of flesh on wood.

She buries her face into the crook of her elbow as harsh breath whispers against her cheek.

"Are you okay?"

"...Emma?"

The Sheriff rolls off of her slowly, letting the gun she holds fall from her fingers weakly with a sniff.

"I found it in his jacket... I'm sorry I took so long... I-"

"-Emma?!"

The blonde lets out a low yelp as the Mayor pulls her into a desperate embrace. She opens her mouth to tell the brunette to chill out but shocks herself when all that comes out is a harsh sobbing and she buries her face into the darker woman's neck.

"Oh my god... Oh my god..."

Regina mutters as she runs her fingers gently over the pale skin of the Sheriff's back, not caring that her own tears fall freely to catch in the younger woman's messy tresses.

"Are you hurt?"

She sniffs as she speaks, but before she can give Emma time to answer, her eyes fall upon the crude bandages lining skinny wrists and she shakes her head furiously. Pushing the blonde away so that she can inspect her properly, her mouth opens as she surveys dirty, skinny limbs, unhealthily pale flesh and a few rogue smears of blood that dapple exposed ribs and thighs.

"... Emma..."

The Sheriff shakes her head, clumsily wiping her cheeks clean of salted tears as she struggles to get herself under control.

"You... You came to find me..."

"Of course I did!"

"Y-you... You came... For m-me..."

Regina sighs as the blonde tries to save face and stop her breath from coming out in sobbing gasps and pulls the younger woman gently back into her as pale arms wrap themselves around her neck.

"Of course I came for you... I love you..."

"I... I..."

The brunette closes her eyes as tear-salted lips find hers with shaky desperation, and fresh moisture cloaks her lashes.

"I love you too."

It is a whisper, barely audible, but for the Mayor it's enough and she smiles against the younger woman's parted lips, stroking her hand gently through tangled curls. A curious sensation of heat flashes through her without warning, and she frowns as she wonders if that's what love feels like.

Eventually, Emma pulls back, her face pale, but her eyes bright and her smile sincere.

"What... what do we do now?"

Glancing over at the men that lie sprawled on the floor, Regina frowns, inwardly complimenting the blonde on her brilliant question.

"Well, I suppose you're the Sheriff... It's up to you.. But if you're open to suggestions, I propose we use those cuffs there on Gold until you make a decision..."

"...Yeah..."

Regina moves over to the pawnbroker, inwardly wishing to tell the younger woman not to help as she lets her dark eyes linger on bandaged wrists, but she knows Emma too well to attempt such a form of reasoning.

"What..."

Both women glance up sharply at the voice from the doorway, each moving just a little as though to protect the other.

Whale stares at them in disbelief, the rag from his mouth held between his bound hands as he looks from the Sheriff to the Mayor.

"_You..._"

Blue eyes bore into the brunette, the emotion behind them unsettled and knowing.

Glaring back fiercely, Regina's eyes widen as she realizes it is not disconcertion that shines within those periwinkle orbs, but recognition.


	72. Chapter 72

**A/N: **_Sorry for the wait on this, I needed some time to figure out what to do with it! But here you go!_

_Also, please check out my one-shot '**Role Play**'. It is a tag-on to this fic revolving around Emma telling Regina she was once situated within a catholic foster home, and is a little smutty scene that I just never got round to adding to this longer fic._

_Enjoy! And please comment!_

* * *

"_What..."_

_Both women glance up sharply at the voice from the doorway, each moving just a little as though to protect the other._

_Whale stares at them in disbelief, the rag from his mouth held between his bound hands as he looks from the Sheriff to the Mayor._

"_You..."_

_Blue eyes bore into the brunette, the emotion behind them unsettled and knowing. Glaring back fiercely, Regina's eyes widen as she realizes it is not disconcertion that shines within those periwinkle orbs, but recognition._

"Victor..."

The young man growls and takes a menacing step closer, fury clouding his sallow face. The blonde moves in turn to stand in front of Regina, but the brunette finds her waist with slim fingers and pulls her gently to the side, whispering in her ear to stay out of this.

She wishes she could demand Emma cover her ears and leave the room altogether but she knows neither party that shares the floor would allow such a thing.

"You... You did this... All of this... You _bitch!_ You-"

"-_Hey_! You don't fucking talk to her like that!"

The doctor glances irritably at the younger woman as she barks at him angrily, supposing they must form a very odd tableaux indeed between the three of them; what with the Swan woman standing as though ready for battle in her fucking underwear.

"I will talk to her however I wish! After everything she's done she deserves no form of dignity or respect! And who the hell are _you_ to jump to her defense? After everything she's done to _you_! What she's taken from _you_! She destroyed my happiness, and she stamped yours out before you were even born you dumb little bitch, so why in the hell would you care how I talk to her?!"

"I don't-"

But the doctor doesn't wait to hear whatever the Savior has to say, he merely lunges at the Queen that has caused all of his despicable misery with a blind rage that causes the brunette to flinch as she remains frozen in place with shock. She is pulled rudely from her numb state when Emma counteracts Victor's assault, sending the doctor, along with herself, into a snarling heap of flailing limbs and teeth on the dust-dirtied floor; green eyes flashing towards the gun that lies just a little out of reach. Before she can scramble over to claim purchase, Regina sweeps the weapon swiftly up into her shaking hands and points it at the hateful young man, crying out desperately over the alarming sound of the blonde and the doctor scrapping with a ferocity that frightens her to the core.

"_Stop!_ Get off of her! Emma, get up! Come here, get behind me!"

The doctor stills as he catches the silver gleam of the gun glimmering fatally from between delicate hands. He suffers a brief wave of fear before frowning when he ponders the fact that the Queen seems reliant on weaponry rather than power. He moves to sit up slowly, his hands wet with blood that isn't his own and he watches as Emma pushes herself up onto her feet shakily, the dressings to her wrists ruined and saturated with fresh scarlet that matches the twin splotches of rage at her cheeks.

"She's not who you think she is, Emma! She's... She's _evil_. She's-"

"Hold your tongue!"

Regina growls as the Sheriff moves to stand beside her with a wary frown. The darker woman glances down at the fresh blood that coats the blonde's wrists and arms and grits her teeth, her fingers trembling at the trigger frantically.

"One more word out of turn and I'll shoot you where you sit, do you understand me?"

"No you won't... If you were going to use that gun on me you would have done so already, much like _she_ did when she offed the Hatter just now..."

Whale points accusingly at Emma who casts a fretful glance down at the crumpled body of the madman and stammers.

"Jefferson?...I _had_ to do that! H-he was going to _kill_ her! It was us or him!"

"And he would have been doing us all a great_ favor_, Miss Swan! If the Hatter had killed the Queen, then all of this madness could have ended! We would have been free! We would have-"

"_Shut up_! Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'm _sick_ of this fucking game! I don't know which one of you talked to Henry, but it's _enough_! I'm not scared of your fucked up little game! So you just damn well quit calling Regina the Queen- calling her evil- because it's _fucked up_! You hear me!? I don't know what I did that made me deserve all this_ crap_ with Gold, and, you know what? I couldn't really give a _shit_ right now! But I'll be_ damned_ if I'm going to stand here listening to you reciting such crazed, lunatic theories to try and freak me out! It's done! It's over! Gold is lying on the floor, unconscious, and I'm getting the hell out of here! You can stop with the-"

"Stop denying what stands before your very eyes! Your ignorance is your own burden, but I must implore you, _please_, step away from her! She is not who she claims to be, she is not the Mayor, she is the _Queen_! She ruined your parents, ruined your family, ruined your hope! You think what Rumplestiltskin did to you here was bad? That woman will have you screaming for mercy without lifting a finger! She's having you on Emma! She's-"

Whale's words taper off into a pained scream as his thigh explodes into an abused crater of gore. Regina drops the gun with a cry, her dark eyes flickering to the blonde who stands motionless with her mouth open and back to the doctor who curls up on the floor sobbing as he claws at his ruined leg.

"Enough... I warned you..."

"Oh jeez, Regina... Oh shit, you shot him... Oh shit..."

"I know... I know, dear... Hush now, okay? Hush, sweetheart, I need to think what to do..."

"Regina, he's bleeding out... He's... Oh fuck..."

The brunette bites her lip as the Sheriff mumbles fretfully, a simple glance in the younger woman's direction enough to warn her that Emma is on the verge of freaking out; her sanity already abused mercilessly by her time spent cooped up with the madmen that scatter the floor of the room, and now shadowed with the blood that seeps onto the floorboards from the young doctor's thigh.

_Must have hit the femoral artery... How inconvenient..._

"Emma, go sit on the bed and put your head between your legs."

"What?! N-no! Regina, we need to-"

"-_Please!_ Things are already completely out of control, I can't have you passing out on me!"

"I'm fine! I just-_Ah!_"

Regina jumps and looks back at the blonde from her position crouched over the bleeding doctor, eyes widening to match the Sheriff's as the pawnbroker's hand shoots out to encircle the younger woman's pale ankle.

Chest tightening, her eyes flicker feverishly from Gold, to Emma, to Whale and back again. The Pawnbroker's dark eyes open blearily, and the cruel sneer he offers upon those poisonous orbs focusing on her is enough to make what is one of the hardest decisions she's ever had to make. Lunging forward towards the Sheriff, she pulls her flush with shaking hands- ignoring the surprised yelp Emma emits into her glossy hair- and closes her eyes.

The sensation of power that courses through her is nauseating in it's cobwebbed un-use, and she prays frantically that she possesses the strength to do what must be done. She is vaguely aware of slim fingers digging painfully into her shoulders as Emma clings to her fearfully, the younger woman coughing fitfully as purple smoke engulfs them and throws them into a dizzying darkness.

* * *

Eventually the spinning stops, and Regina struggles to keep from vomiting, the weak retching that makes her frown in her disorientated state suggesting the Sheriff has been less successful in this particular endeavour. Keeping her eyes clamped stubbornly shut, she cautiously spreads her fingers out at her sides and proceeds to explore her surroundings slowly.

Her nervousness abates somewhat at the familiar feel of plush fibers beneath her fingertips, along with the unmistakable scent of sweet apple musk that greets her, and she knows without opening her eyes that she lies on the floor of her bedroom. Reaching out blindly to her left, her fingers brush against warm flesh and she sobs quietly in her relief, pushing herself up to regard the blonde as the younger woman lies on her back with wide fear-filled eyes.

"Emma..."

"...What in the actual fuck...?"


	73. Chapter 73

**A/N: **_ I am so looking forward to being able to just write some less angsty scenes between these two, or at least slightly less confrontational scenes... But hopefully you all agree it's necessary for the overall story? I'm not sure anymore :s I hope you enjoy though :)_

* * *

_"Emma..."_

_"...What in the actual fuck..."_

The brunette moves over towards the Sheriff and lets out a low groan as the younger woman attempts to scramble away, her breathing rapid and eyes glistening with fear.

"No, no! It's ok! I promise, Emma, please-"

"-Get the hell away from me!"

"You have to let me explain! I deserve a chance to explain!"

Her words fall on deaf ears as the blonde pushes herself up onto her feet and sprints for the door. Regina grimaces as she doesn't need to be psychic to know what will happen next, but she can't risk letting Emma escape the small, confined space of her bedroom. Can't risk her running out into a world she isn't ready for. Closing her eyes, she wills the door to remain shut, creating an invisible shield to keep the blonde from disappearing from view.

As she had predicted, the younger woman collides with the door with such force she is knocked backwards onto her ass; her expression of surprise sure to be comical were it not for this hateful situation.

"Emma... Please, you have to listen to me, it's okay! It's all okay! Please you-"

"-This can't be happening. It can't! It... This is some kind of trick, right? Regina? Right?! What the... Wh-what the..."

The brunette growls as the Sheriff proceeds to claw at the door, almost able to taste the frenzied panic coming from the blonde. Rising to her feet swiftly, she hurries towards Emma as the younger woman begins to scramble at the door with greater earnest; her wrists leaving ugly smears on the painted white wood and her shoulders heaving tellingly. Grabbing her by the waist, Regina drags her backwards, trying to shield herself from an onslaught of flailing limbs as she manages to wrestle to Sheriff to the floor.

"Emma! Stop!_ Emma!_"

But the blonde has her eyes clamped shut, squirming fitfully beneath the prison of the brunette's thighs in a way that threatens to knock the darker woman off of her at any second. Closing her eyes and whispering a choked apology, Regina brings her hand down smartly across the Sheriff's face before falling forward to observe her, nose to nose.

"Emma..."

The brunette wipes away a tear that trickles from the corner of the younger woman's eye as a result of the stinging pain evident in the form of a red hand print on her cheek. Piercing the blonde's eyes with her own dark coals, she shakes her head when the Sheriff attempts once more to buck her off, shushing her gently as Emma's strength begins to wane into exhaustion.

"Please stop... Please?"

"You... you're... Regina, how did you _do_ that... H-how are we _here?!_"

"... You know the answer to that, dear... Victor all but told you... As has Henry many a time..."

"...No. No, no, no... Not you too... Regina, please! I can't! I... I feel sick... It hurts... I can't... I can't do this right now... W-why are you all doing this to me!?"

The Queen sighs sadly as the Sheriff begins to weep once more, not accustomed to dealing with Emma like this, and hating the way the younger woman's face speaks of nothing but misery. Running her fingers gently through golden curls, she tries to slide her hands beneath the blonde's shoulder blades, and wrestles her over to the bed, propping her up so that she rests slouched against its end.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen, you have to believe me... If I had my way, you would have never found out... I don't know what to say... All I can do is ask you to think back to when you came here and how I acted towards you, and how that's changed... None of how I've been with you has been anything to do with the... The Curse... Just please try to remember that?"

"I just... H-henry's been asking me to accept that everyone's a fucking fairytale character all this time, and it's crazy, and I just... They all tell me you're the Evil Queen, a-and... I said it was nuts, but...What you just did... Th-that was magic? We... You... I can't..."

"...I want to show you something..."

Regina moves so that she sits beside the blonde, her spirits lifting momentarily when Emma doesn't shy away from her, but she isn't naive enough to truly believe the younger woman's reaction is a result of anything but simple exhaustion. Still, she takes the Sheriff's hands gently in her own and carefully removes the ripped bandaging ruined during her scrap with the doctor. Hissing through her teeth at the carnage that lies beneath, she glances up at Emma who looks down at her abused wrists with an awful kind of expressionless laziness.

"This shouldn't hurt... I don't think..."

The Queen moves her hands over the blonde's skinny wrists slowly, cautious of the knowledge that what she is going to try to do may well result in the Sheriff well and truly reaching her limit. She doesn't want to scare the younger woman any more than she has to, but she does need to prove herself, and fast. Allowing just the smallest amount of power to leave her fingertips to find the blonde's wrists in a purple haze, she mutters quietly as Emma lets out a low cry and trembles beside her.

"Shhh, just watch, dear, just watch... I need you to trust me... Can you do that?"

"I..."

"...Please?"

"...I trust you..."

Regina blinks rapidly, not having been so bold as to expect the Sheriff to answer in the affirmative but elated by the answer she has been offered. Allowing just a little more force to touch the blonde's ruined flesh, she watches alongside the younger woman as angry raw lacerations begin to heal before her very eyes, not sure if she should laugh or cry at Emma's low muttering of 'fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck' in her ear.

Taking the Sheriff's broken hand in her own, she works her magic a little deeper, knitting together fractured shards with sorrowful flinches at each of the pained hisses that escape the blonde's lips.

"Try to move your fingers..."

"I can't! I... Oh shit..."

Green eyes widen as pale fingers flutter slowly but ably. Turning to the brunette, Emma lets out a low noise of distress and the darker woman pulls her swiftly into her, allowing the Sheriff to hide her face in the soft fabric of her coat.

"I know it's a lot to take in... I know, dear... And I don't know what's going to happen... I'm hardly viewed favorably by any of those I brought here. Your... Your parents being at the top of that list... Emma, if I could change things now, I would... But I was young, and foolish, and I... It's not as simple as how it looks when written on the page... I-"

"-You ruined everything... M-my parents! Are you fucking k-kidding me?! I'm just s-supposed to-"

"-Don't say that! Please, don't say that! I don't expect you to do anything... You're not _supposed_ to do anything... I... Please... Don't say that..."

Regina tightens her arms around the Sheriff in a desperate plea to keep her close, but the younger woman squirms free determinedly, sitting back so that she can survey the darker woman with bloodshot, incredulous eyes, her face pale and streaked with dirty tear-tracks.

"You... Do you know what I went through?! The shit I dealt with because of what you... what you did?! Because I didn't have my fucking parents?!"

"And do you know what_ I_ went through because of your parents?! Emma... I can't make this all go away... Well, that's a lie... Do you know how easy it would be right now for me to make it so that you had no clue anything was amiss? I could make it so that you remembered only the things I wanted you to remember..."

Panic flashes nakedly across the younger woman's face and the brunette shakes her head, sniffing delicately.

"I would never do that to you, Emma... If you find you can't deal with what you have uncovered... If you can't bare to see me... I would hate that... I would wish it were different... But I would never do something like that to you... I love you."

"Please... Don't..."

"I came for you..."

"Regina..."

"I need you."

The blonde shakes her head slowly and the Queen bites back her instinctual anger, the resulting noise echoing loudly between them in the form of a sob. She watches as Emma gets shakily to her feet, the younger woman moving towards the door before turning back defeatedly.

"Is it still locked?"

"No... No I'll let you go if it's what you want... I...Here, take these before you go..."

Regina rises stiffly and moves to her wardrobe, hiding her face so as to mask the tears that flow freely. She finds a pair of plain black slacks she imagines will fit the blonde just a little snuggly, and a cashmere V-necked sweater. She holds them out silently to Emma who dons them swiftly; no showiness to her actions which, while understandable, saddens the brunette as it all seems terribly final. Sniffing as the Sheriff shrugs awkwardly and nods her farewell, Regina pauses hesitantly by the bed and speaks up in a low voice.

"What's going to happen?"

"... I don't know..."

"Will you... Are you coming back? Here, I mean?"

"I... I need to go sort out my head...I need to go talk to Mary Margaret... I... I have to have some space from you..."

"Okay... Well-"

"-But I won't forget what you did for me today. I... I do lo-... I have to go... But please... Stay out of trouble?"

"... I will. I can't promise trouble won't find _me_, though, Miss Swan."

"... The curse may have broken or whatever the fuck you want to call it... But I'm still the Sheriff. You have my number... Use it if you have to."

"... Thank you."

"Bye, Regina."

"Bye, Emma... For now?"

"... Bye, Regina."


	74. Chapter 74

**A/N: **_Really not sure about this one... I hope it's believable. Hope you enjoy, and, you know... commenttttts :)_

* * *

"You still okay?"

The waitress asks nervously as she walks beside the blonde, trying and failing to keep some of the joy from her voice so as to match Emma's clearly ominous mood. The Sheriff offers her a curt nod, not bothering with the transparently thin-lipped smile she has offered Ruby the last three times the younger woman has asked this very question, but when Henry slips his small hand into hers she squeezes it tightly, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as the boy wraps his own around her waist.

"Are you excited?"

She glances down at him distractedly, wondering what would constitute as the 'right' answer in this situation, but is saved from what seems to her to be an impossible task when Ruby pipes up animatedly.

"Of _course_ she is! But this is all pretty sudden, Henry... Your mom needs some time to get her head around it all, I'll bet!"

The brunette frowns when her words are greeted with a small shrug from her friend and she tries to coach her features to form a more morose expression. She has asked several times now what happened while the blonde had been captured, but Emma has made it abundantly clear she doesn't want to discuss such matters. Ruby had thought at first her reluctance to talk may have been due to Henry's presence, but the more she studies the Sheriff out of the corner of her eye, the more she comes to the conclusion that the older woman doesn't look well. Not well at all.

_She said she was okay..._

She frowns as she thinks back to Emma's declaration while in the Mayor's hallway. She herself had awoken to the sound of voices up above; instantly recognizing that of her friend, while at the same time finding that low drawl to be curious.

That voice was from_ here_... Not from _there_.

The elation of thinking of herself as Red rather than Ruby had been increased ten-fold by the knowledge that the blonde was safe and sound upstairs talking to the Queen.

The_ Evil_ Queen.

She had balked at that, her instincts screaming at her to get the hell out of the witch's house while in the meantime begging the question of just what the Sheriff was going to make of all this.

Emma's expression when she had finally come into view in the hallway had spoken volumes.

The boy had come bounding out of his room, embracing his mother fiercely while apologizing for 'being a jerk' and asking her what she was doing there. One look at the blonde's face had been enough for the brunette to hurry quickly over- claim her own hug- and rescue the Sheriff from the inquisitive barrage of questions sure to come from the ten year old.

Green eyes had studied her warily, before her friend had asked her if she was 'different now' too. She had grinned, overjoyed, and pulled the blonde into another tight embrace, whispering 'You did it, Emma, you saved us!' much to Henry's delight.

She had asked about Regina, but had received a look of such warning that it had left her changing subjects hastily. When Emma had muttered she should make her way home to find Mary Margaret, both she and Henry had tagged along without any hesitation; Henry sparing no question as to whether doing so would be allowed, and the waitress imagines that such a thing was telling of how things were going to go now. She had almost expressed such a thought to her friend, but Emma hadn't seemed particularly keen on making conversation, leaving them where they are now; walking in semi-uncomfortable silence.

"Well_ I'd_ be excited if I were you! You finally get to meet Snow White and Prince Charming! And they'll know who you are and-... Are you okay? Are you sick?"

The blonde shakes her head slowly, although she has to admit, she's felt a great deal better than she does right now, but she doesn't think the sickness she feels is the sort to which her son is referring.

"No, I'm fine... Just nervous I guess..."

"You already met the Evil Queen! How much worse can it get!"

Ruby bites her lip awkwardly as the Sheriff scowls darkly, offering Henry a small shrug and a wide smile when he glances up at her; confused at his mother's reaction.

"...Mom? Are you-"

"-I'm fine Henry. You shouldn't call your mother that, though."

"But she is! Emma! You-"

"Enough. I don't want to hear it."

The boy huffs at the cold reprimand offered to him by the blonde and Ruby blinks in surprise. She is used to the cutting tone the Sheriff is prone to taking, but has never heard her speak in such a way to her son. In the yellow glow of the streetlights her friend's face appears haggard and worn, and she supposes it can't be easy for the blonde to have learnt of the Mayor's true identity.

_The Evil Queen... I'm sorry Emma... I am... But just how much of the past was Regina aware of... Surely she would have allowed herself the benefit of the truth... But if that _were_ so... The Evil Queen strived to protect the Savior... If that were so... She loves you... She loves you, evil or not._

"Do you want us to wait outside when you go in?"

The blonde looks up at the waitress distractedly, pulling the soft wool of her loaned sweater tighter around her slim frame. It fits her awkwardly, and she wishes the wind would either pick up or die down so that it would desist serving her the delicate scent of apples she has come to associate with the Mayor.

With the Queen.

Her muscles ache and she imagines the headache she is having a hard time battling against is as much a result of lack of proper food and water as it is the craziness that impends on her. Her wrists feel warm and a little sore, but she forbids herself from looking down at the curious white lines that mark her pale skin where there should be ruined flesh and ugly stitching.

_Do I want you to wait outside... Wait outside while I go pop in and say 'hi' to Snow White?... How am I supposed to even know the answer to such a question?_

She shrugs, aware that this is becoming a bit of a theme as they walk along and hating herself for being what she is sure is the dampener to her friend's well deserved happiness, but not able to help herself. If Ruby is really some fucking wolf, Red, whatever... Then good for her. She wants only good things for the young waitress- her heart filled with a strong fondness for the young brunette- but she doesn't quite know how to make her face preform the necessary expressions to show it.

_I don't know what to tell you, Ruby... Red... Whoever you are. I don't know what to think or what to feel. The only person I want to be with is the reason I spent my time up until meeting her completely alone. The reason why I have no father, no mother. And now the woman we're on our way to see is the very woman that the only person I've ever come to truly love... That _deserved_ my love... endeavored to destroy... Forgive me, but I'm not sure what would be considered the 'right' thing to say about all this._

She sighs, alarmed at the telling prickle of tears that finds her tired eyes, and she muses that for someone that rarely cries, Regina has bought out a side of her that is terribly watery for her liking. Sniffing, she rolls her eyes at the absurdity of it all. Her thoughts are muddled, for she _does_ love another... She loves the kid... And she _has_ loved another... Neil... But there is a pain to the emotion she attaches to the Mayor that makes her sure that this is something else entirely. It must be _true love_, because nothing else would hurt quite so badly.

_You've been reading too many fairytales... Or perhaps not enough as the case may be... But think on it, Swan... You loved Neil, and it hurt when_ he_ fucked you over too... Don't make this into something it's not. The woman was nice to you, she made you feel good... That's all there is to it. Don't clutch at straws. _

_No. She came to find me. I _matter_ to her. Not as the fucking Savior. As Emma. _

Shaking her head, she wrestles her hands into the pockets of the tight slacks the brunette leant her, and watches her breath mist in front of her, illuminated by the streetlights. She is relieved that they walk in the darkness of the early hours, not sure she would have been able to deal with making her way home with the regular hustle and bustle of Storybrooke's patrons out on the streets. She imagines what it must be like; waking up to discover you are someone else entirely. The thought has a certain amount of romanticism to it... But it turns out, she's just Emma.

Somehow, it just doesn't seem like it's enough.

"Hey Kid... Will she even know it's me? Like... I mean... I was a baby when I went through that wardrobe thing and I-"

Her words are cut off as the three of them let out a simultaneous cry of surprise, each shielding their face from the harsh beam of light that pierces them ruthlessly and blocks out all but the owner's silhouette.

"...Emma?"

The blonde nods, her hand still shielding her eyes as she instinctively puts an arm around her son's shoulders.

"Whose there?"

She recognizes the voice, but struggles to place it. Blinking rapidly as the torchlight sways to illuminate the ground, she lets out a low yelp as strong arms pull her into an overbearing embrace. Struggling free, she waits for her eyes to adjust to the new semi-darkness before speaking shakily.

"David?"

"Oh my god! Snow! Over here!"

The light pattering of moccasins on concrete and suddenly skinnier arms wrap themselves around her shoulders as her housemate presses her mouth firmly to her cheek.

"Oh Emma! I was so worried! My... My girl... My..."

The raven-headed woman's words taper off into heavy sobs, and the blonde plays with a thread on Henry's coat nervously as the boy beams up at his grandparents. Biting her lip as the schoolteacher lets out a second cry and embraces the waitress- who hugs her back fiercely- she looks up at David awkwardly when he places a hand on her shoulder.

"What, uh, what are you guys doing out here?"

"Looking for _you_! Emma, what happened? Snow...Well... Mary Margaret called me and told me you were missing... We went out to look for you and... There was this sudden warmth- a heat- and... You did it, baby, you broke the curse!"

"I knew she could do it!"

Emma looks down at Henry who pipes up proudly, wondering just what the boy would say if he only knew how the curse had been lifted. Hanging her head awkwardly, she closes her eyes as Mary Margaret hurries back over and pulls her close, her face becoming buried in the comfortingly familiar scent of the older woman's coat.

"My little girl..."

The blonde cringes, not knowing how best to deal with this situation, but sure that however she goes about doing it will be the wrong way. She has never been one to excel with emotion.

_Regina understood._

Mumbling into her mother's short locks, she sniffs as the schoolteacher laughs shakily and wipes the tears she hadn't realized had fallen away from her pale cheeks.

"I'm bigger than you are..."

"Oh, Emma... I... I'm so proud of you...You saved us... You saved everyone..."

_Doesn't feel that way._

"Are you okay?!"

"Yeah..."

_No._

"Oh my god, thank god... Come, let's go home, let's get you warmed up! I'll make us all some hot chocolate, just the way you like it... Oh, there's so much I want to ask you! And I imagine you are just_ full_ of questions for us! Come on, that's right..."

The Sheriff allows herself to be pulled in close to her housemate, the raven-headed woman linking an arm through her own companionably while shooting her affectionate glances the blonde studies the pavement awkwardly to ignore. Henry bounds up to join David and Red as they stroll a little ahead, and Emma frowns as the kid allows his hand to be taken by the man without question.

_Am I the only one not thrilled by all this?_

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Mary Margaret asks worriedly, perching on the sofa beside the blonde and placing the back of her hand gently against the latter's forehead. Emma nods irritably, ducking away from the schoolteacher's attention.

"I'm fine... Just... Kind of trying to keep my brain intact, you know?... This is a lot..."

"I can imagine..."

Snow confides quietly, green eyes flickering over the blonde's drawn features with kind concern.

"I'm sorry this all happened the way it did... I guess there was never going to be a perfect way... But... I know you said you don't want to talk about it, but I'm just glad you're okay... When Ruby came to tell me about what Rumple... Gold... Did to you... We'll make him pay for it, Emma, I promise you! Kidnapping you like that! I mean, I guess whatever he did must have broken the curse, but if he hurt you..."

"It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?! Of course it does! Emma... Did he? Did he hurt you?!"

"... I'm fine now. Regina fixed it."

"...Regina... She found you?"

"Yes."

"And she... She didn't... She didn't try to hurt you when she found out who you were? When the curse broke? She-"

"-She knew. I think she always knew... She helped break the curse... She... She helped _me_..."

"...I see. Well... I can understand why you'd think that, but... I don't... I don't think... I mean... I doubt she really _did_ help break the curse, Emma... Maybe she told you that... I know she kind of had you thinking-"

"-She didn't have me thinking anything. The curse broke when I kissed her."

"...It broke when you... But... The only magic strong enough to... Emma... What...?"

"It doesn't matter. She... I don't know."

_She's the reason why this is all so awkward now. The reason I now feel like a stranger to parents that would have loved me. Would have wanted me. It's her fault. Her fault, but I just want to know why? What could you have done to her to make it all worth this? Why this? Why did it all come to this?_

"I think I'm gonna go to bed..."

The schoolteacher opens her mouth to argue, but the blonde is already making her way from the sofa, stopping by the large armchair where Henry sits curled up and asleep to place a kiss on the boy's forehead before disappearing up the stairs without a second glance.

The raven-headed woman doesn't need to see her expression to read the emotion behind the way the Sheriff's shoulders droop as she drags her feet behind her.

_This isn't how it was supposed to be._

* * *

Regina sits rigidly on the silken sheets of her bed, her eyes tired and bloodshot and her lips a smudged mess of ghostly scarlet. Her smoldering coals fall repeatedly on the maroon streaks that stain her door but she can't bring herself to remove them.

_I'm so sorry, Emma, I'm so, so sorry._

She sighs. She bares no remorse for the pain inflicted by her actions upon the hateful young woman and her prince that have acted as the bane to her existence for so long, but she is positive now that if she had known who that tiny fair-headed babe would grow up to become, her love for the blonde would have outweighed her hate for her mother.

_It wouldn't have been the same. Without the curse... You would have never known Emma the way you do now..._

She shakes her head as she comes to the curious realization that such a thing doesn't matter. She would do anything to grant the younger woman her happiness, and if it would have meant never knowing the blonde herself... It would have been worth it...

Hindsight is a beautiful thing. But with all beauty, comes pain.

_If I could take it all back I-_

She flinches, her eyes bright as she listens intently to the silence that cloaks her bedroom, sure she has heard a noise from downstairs. Brow furrowing as she hears it again, she rises from her bed slowly to stalk over to the window, seeking out the source of the heavy knocking that comes from below.

* * *

Tossing restlessly in bed, the blonde groans as her phone vibrates insesently, pulling back the covers and peering about the room that glows with the pale light of dawn. She spots her mobile lying forlorn at the foot of the bed and reaches for it with a frown. Staring at the name that flashes on the small screen with gritted teeth, she briefly entertains the idea of simply switching the device off and shutting it away before flipping it open warily.

"...Regina?"

"Emm-... Sheriff... I think I may require your services."

"... I'm on my way."

Closing her phone swiftly, she rolls out of bed and pulls on a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt, pulling the hood up to cast her face into shadow and slipping out of the room quietly, shooting a glance toward Henry as he sleeps in the armchair before letting herself out of the apartment.

_Please be okay. Just... Please be okay._


	75. Chapter 75

**A/N: **_Enjoy! Please let me know what you think. Also; I realise I have made Miss Ginger a bit of a bitch in this fic, and I have a feeling her fairytale persona is Johanna (or I may just be being presumptuous because of the hair)... Let's just all agree that in this fic she remains some randomer who we only see through Emma's eyes? :)_

* * *

The blonde suffers a feeling of intense doubt following her decision to stop by the Station before heading to the Mayor's house- swapping her bug for the cruiser- praying such actions haven't cost her too much time.

"It'd be just like you to fuck this up... What, after she came through for you the way she did..."

_Oh for fuck's sake, can the self-pity party wait until later, Swan?_

She laughs out loud at this- wondering momentarily if perhaps she really is losing it just a little- imagining that if ever there was a time for her seemingly instinctual depreciation of self- her pessimistic view on things- it would be now.

Racing in through the gates to the luxurious drive, she plays the piercing notes of the siren as she swerves to a halt outside the stone steps at which a group of about seven or eight are clustered with fists pounding at the door.

"Hey!"

She assesses the damage quickly, and is relieved to see that while the angry citizens who stand valiantly against their Queen on the doorstep create a terrifying racket, their rage seems to have been channeled primarily into infuriated cries and the incessant pounding of fists. The only real sign of vandalism is an empty crater where once there was a window to the side of the door, but the smashed pane is high, and she imagines it would be almost impossible to enter the house through the jagged opening.

She isn't willing to take any chances.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

The furious threats abate as one by one the angered citizens turn to face her, the blonde possessing more authority than she should in her hooded sweatshirt, but the heavy material that casts her face into shadow leaves just the angry flash of her teeth, and the long hair that tumbles down over her chest leaves them in no doubt as to who stands before them.

"My dear, she is the Queen! And here in this land, she shall not ruin us the way she did before! She must be punished for her sins! She must be destroyed!"

"Have you lost your fucking minds!?"

The blonde growls at the squat little woman who speaks with such hateful conviction. She recognizes the majority of the furious mob by face alone, having seen them around and about but never exchanging words. Miss Ginger she knows well, however, and she decides the small woman is just as irksome as whoever the fuck she is now as she was before the breaking of the curse.

_Turns out even magic can't make shit shine._

"Step away, all of you, you're trespassing..."

"She's the Queen!"

"And _I'm_ the Sheriff!"

"My poor love, you seem frightfully confused. We have no_ use_ for you here, things have changed! She deserves to suffer what she has coming to her... We don't need a _Sheriff_..."

The small woman laughs and shakes her head as several of the men behind her nod in agreement. Stalking up the steps slowly until she stands directly before the scowling redhead, Emma looks down at her with glittering eyes that flicker from the shadows of her hood, the height advantage she has over the squat woman allowing her to lean in to the other's face.

"You know who I am... All of you... You may not need a Sheriff, but you sure as hell needed a Savior. Now _get out_. This isn't your fight."

Her voice is low, and she's surprised at how calm she has managed to keep her tone, but the effect works in her favor; uncomfortable glances shared between those stood with their fists still raised on the doorstep, before one by one the angered citizens slink off towards the gates.

It is unwise to anger the Queen. But it is unwise also to go against royalty.

Standing with her arms crossed over her chest, the Sheriff watches stonily as the last of the small mob- _Miss Ginger, of _course_ it would be that jumped up little shit- _make their way up the generous driveway and out into the street.

_They actually listened to me..._

Ducking back into the cruiser, she drives slowly up to the gates before pulling to a stop at an angle, blocking the driveway neatly. She decides it was worth the detour to the Station after all, hoping the cruiser will demand a little more respect than her own car.

_You can say that now... What if it had cost her her safety?_

"Oh shut up! I'm doing my best here!"

_Not good enough._

"Stop it!"

She growls angrily, supposing she must look quite mad standing here muttering to herself in the pink glow of dawn. Looking up at the mansion she has come to know so painfully well, she shoves her hands into her pockets and marches back up the drive, mounting the stone steps slowly before rapping her fist against the door.

"Regina?"

She receives no answer but she hastily consoles herself with the thought that this is hardly surprising; what with the furious knocking on the smartly painted wood not five minutes ago. Slipping aside the ornate covering that falls over the keyhole, the blonde yells through the gap in the wood, feeling ever so slightly foolish.

"Come on, it's just me!"

She cocks her head to the side and listens, pulling her lip between her teeth and nibbling nervously. The hallway lies cloaked in darkness, much like the rest of the house from what she can see, and she finds she is suddenly a little less bold with her declaration as to the brunette's sure safety than she was upon her arrival. Glancing up at the smashed pane to her side she muses that if one were to truly try and wriggle through, it might just be possible.

Jumping down from the steps and pulling herself up onto the narrow ledge, the bottom of the jagged gap is in line with her hips, and she supposes if she could maneuver herself with a little care, she may just be able to slip though.

Possibly.

Doubtfully.

"Well, nobody ever got anywhere without trying..."

She hisses as an angry vertical shard catches her elbow, before knocking the dangerous tooth of glass out of the way with her sleeve-covered fist. Pulling herself up with shaking arms, she is halfway through when the front door opens, causing her to cry out and barely keep herself from tumbling back down into the flowerbeds.

"Miss Swan... What on earth are you doing?"

The Sheriff lowers herself back down to balance on the window ledge, casting a look over at the Mayor who stands with her silk robe pulled tightly around her waist and her arms crossed over her chest.

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing? Why didn't you answer the door?"

"... Perhaps I fear death threats showered upon me through my keyhole by an angry mob more than you do... Or perhaps, just perhaps, I was afraid our dear friend Rumplestiltiskin was up to no good and had taken on your sweet, dulcet tones in an attempt to lure me downstairs..."

"My sweet... T-taken on my voice? Well... H-how do you know I'm not him now?"

"Because, you're the _only_ person I know that would be idiotic enough to try and crawl through my window, dear."

She offers the Sheriff a small smile and the younger woman rolls her eyes, huffing irritably.

"Yeah, well... I'm the fucking Sheriff! It's my _job_ to make sure everyone's alright..."

"Oh, you're just a regular knight in shining armor, Miss Swan."

The blonde sighs in frustration, clambering down from the ledge with minimal grace before shoving her hands into her pockets and regarding the Queen awkwardly. The darker woman's trademark sultry tone does little to hide the strained weariness in her features, and the Sheriff's expression softens a little at the nervous pull to scarlet lips that the brunette strives to hide with a too-smug smile.

"Are you okay?"

"...I've been better..."

"I meant... I meant because of what happened just now..."

"I see... Yes... Yes, in that respect I'm just fine... A little perturbed to have my rest disturbed in such a callous fashion, but physically I'm no worse for wear."

"Um... Well, that's good..."

"I wish the same could be said for yourself..."

"Huh?"

"Your elbow; you're bleeding... Honestly, dear, are you _incapable _of staying in one piece?"

"Oh... It's nothing, it's just a scratch."

"Hmm... I think I'll be the judge of that..."

The Mayor reaches out for the blonde's arm, only to find the younger woman scowling at her in confusion. Rolling her eyes, she mutters irritably.

"Just let me make sure you're fit to go, dear..."

"Regina, please... I'm fine..."

"I'm sure you are, Miss Swan... But I dread to think of the germs that may plague that old glass... Please... I promise you... No doors will keep you captured... I merely wish to check over your injuries before you leave me."

Emma frowns, rolling back the soft fabric of her sweater.

"Seriously, it's nothing..."

The brunette shakes her head, taking hold of the younger woman's arm gently and inspecting the thin laceration that lines her forearm. She lifts her hand to heal the blonde but the Sheriff pulls away with a grimace.

"No... No more magic..."

"But I...Very well."

Shrugging in defeat, the Queen ushers the blonde through the front door and into her kitchen, growling irritably at the latter's protests.

"Emma... Just let me do this for you... "

Not waiting for an answer, she grabs the first aid kit from above the sink and sits the blonde down on one of the slick stools that line her kitchen island and maneuvers the Sheriff's arm out in front of her. The younger woman is correct in in her declaration that nothing is amiss; the cut just below her elbow meagre and artificial, but still the brunette presses an antiseptic wipe to the reddened flesh gently, watching the blonde, hawklike, from the corner of her eye.

"It's okay, Regina..."

"... I can see that... I needed to make sure..."

"Yeah... Well..."

"Emma... I... I can't do this. I... Will you allow me a chance to explain? Just one day... That's all I'm asking... Give me one day to explain to you why I did the things I did..."

"Regina... I could give you twenty four hours, I could give you twenty four years... I still don't see how you could convince me you were in the right to do what you did..."

"...I'm not even going to attempt to argue I was in the _right_, dear... I just want to explain why things happened the way they did... I'm not asking for understanding, Emma... I'm praying for _forgiveness_... I... I can't let you go... I... Please.. Just one day... Haven't I earned that much from you?"

"...I..."

"Emma. I love you."

"... And I want to love you too... I _do_ love you... But I... Regina... I've been screwed over too many times to-"

"-You love me. That's all that matters... And I refuse to let that change. Come, I'd like to go upstairs... I wish to show you something..."


	76. Chapter 76

**A/N: **_I really, really hope this works! I've been aching to write this chapter for a while now as I really wanted to kind of pull things all together again. Please let me know what you think :)_

* * *

Regina makes her way upstairs without looking back. She has enough faith in the blonde to suspect the younger woman will follow her sooner or later, and her hopes are rewarded when she makes out the soft thud of the Sheriff's boots behind her. Slipping into her bedroom, she cringes as she hears Emma hesitate outside, but she is blessed with another small favor as, finally, the blonde appears in the doorway, a pale hand holding back her long hair fretfully and an expression of disquiet crossing her features.

"Regina... I don't think this is exactly appropriate..."

"... All I want from you is your attention, Emma... You can... You can sit wherever you like..."

Such a statement would seem odd under any other circumstance, but the Sheriff deciphers the true meaning to the Mayor's words; she will not be touched, will not be pestered, she is free to leave if she wishes and she may speak freely. Sighing, the blonde perches awkwardly at the foot of the plush king-sized bed, green eyes regarding the Queen balefully as the latter gathers the old, weathered book she has come to know so well from her dresser and carries it over. Clearing her throat, she nods pointedly at the empty space beside the blonde and the younger woman bites her lip before nodding wearily.

"I've read that thing cover to cover, Regina... I don't know what you-"

"- I haven't. I read parts of it- the parts about Gold- when you went missing... I hoped it would give me a clue as to where and why he had taken you... Some of those stories intermingled with mine... My own stories... My own life... Do you know how curious that is, dear? To read about yourself as though you are nothing more than a character playing out some higher power's fancies? I believe now that there is a touch of truth to that notion... I believe Gold to have been in control of much more than I'd originally conceived... But... Understand that I am not telling you so in an attempt to shift the blame... I'm telling you because... I've never had anyone to talk to about such things... About my feelings and about my reasonings... Whether they are moral or _good_ I know not... In fact, I imagine a great deal of what I have done is the very _opposite_ of 'good'... I'm not going to sit here and beg you to absolve me of the wrong I have done to the scum that inhabits this town... There are things I would take back- that I would change- if I knew then what I know now... But this isn't about the curse... This is about you and it's about me... I would lay down my life for you should the necessity arise, and I know you well enough to be sure you'd do the same for me. I love you, but I know very little about you, and you know even _less_ about me.

_I_ know what I managed to find out by digging into legal documents pertaining to your past. _You_ know what you've read on these pages... And perhaps that's the problem, dear. Perhaps there is something to be said for learning of the hard truths from the lips of their source. I'm not going to get down on my knees for you, Emma. I've pleaded for forgiveness once, and I don't plan on doing it again... You'll either grant it or you won't. I've asked you up here because I want to tell you a story. _My_ story. Told _my_ way."

Regarding the brunette somberly, Emma gives her a slow nod, waiting for her to continue as her eyes fall upon the delicate text that dances across the page.

"Once upon a time... There was a young girl who was terribly unhappy. She had a mother and a father that loved her very much, but her mother was an overbearing woman, cruel and selfish, while her father was weak and victim to his wife's sharp tongue. It was no secret to the young girl that her parents were not a couple brought together by love, but rather by the thirst for power her mother seemed unable to sate.

As time went on, the girl grew closer to her father, for he was a kind man... Filled with the goodness so absent in her mother... They formed a silent allegiance; the two of them versus the girl's mother whose power grew day by day, year by year, until she was blinded by it, and she could think of nothing else. The girl's mother would use her power- her magic- as a form of reprimand; leaving the young girl so terrified at the mere _thought_ of punishment that not a word was spoken out of turn. Not a toe was placed out of line.

But the girl did have _one_ love in her life that kept her going... She loved to ride... And with her love for riding, she encountered a love for the boy who taught her; the Stable Boy. It was a simple love at first- that of a lonely young girl discovering that the world _could _be kind and offer her a friend- but it soon grew into more, as these things do, and her love became a physical emotion that at times felt as though it would consume her alive.

She kept her love for the Stable Boy a well guarded secret, and it was this, perhaps, that kept her sane as her mother berated her daily over how her inadequacy was keeping her from finding a suitable husband... A man of stature... A man of royalty. She would listen to her mother's harsh words, and sometimes she would cry, other times she would not, but she would know deep down that once she had endured such depreciating remarks, her Stable Boy would be there to welcome her and love her with open arms.

Until she met Snow White.

The young princess was traveling with her father- a King on the lookout for a new Queen to replace young Snow's mother who had fallen mysteriously ill not long before- when the steed on which she had been mounted went wild and took off with the child screaming upon its back. Our girl was out in the fields with her forbidden love, and she had the misfortune to take heed of the princess's pleas for help. She saved the young child, thinking nothing of it but that it was a wondrous thing that she should have been out at that exact time... How fortuitous for the weeping princess.

A day later, the King came knocking on the young woman's door, bearing an ocean of gratitude along with a ring. He requested the girl's hand in marriage- thinking such a selfless creature would make a fine mother for his precious daughter, Snow- and the girl's own mother accepted on her behalf without so much as a glance in her daughter's direction.

The girl was terrified; not wishing to marry the King who was so many years her elder, and not wishing to forsake her true love for the stable boy. Distraught, she wept her woes to her beloved and he took her in his arms the way she adored- the way that made her feel safe- and he placed a kiss upon her lips that was overseen by the young princess who had strayed out into the farmland.

The girl chased down the princess, and she cried and she begged and she pleaded. She implored the child not to speak of what she had seen, explaining that above all else, her mother must never know.

But Snow White told the girl's mother. She broke the promise she had vowed to uphold.

Sensing turbulence ahead, the girl and the stable boy decided to make a run for it... But it was too late. Taking heed of what the young princess had divulged to her, the girl's mother found her daughter and the one she loved in the stable. The girl pleaded with her mother to understand... To allow her just this _one_ thing...

But her mother ripped out the boy's heart and crushed it into dust.

After that, the girl felt a numbness that stayed with her for a long time. She married the king, watching as he doted on the young girl who had caused her life to fall to ruin... Forever feeling as though she was an outsider within her own skin. Any love, any _goodness_ the girl may have once possessed turned slowly to hate.

A hate for the world. A hate for her people... But most of all; a hate for the girl responsible for her situation.

A hate for Snow White.

As the years went by and the young princess grew up to become a woman, the two of them fought bitterly. The girl- now being Queen- did all in her power to make young Snow feel the pain and heartache she herself had suffered. She did all that she could to keep the princess away from the young man with which she had become infatuated, threatening him and battling her. Unable to stand the pain of failing repeatedly to crush the younger woman, she came to the decision to eliminate her altogether; poisoning an apple and cursing the princess to an endless sleep.

Yet _still_ Snow thwarted her.

_Still_ the fair young maiden- so loved by all around her- was saved by her true love by a simple kiss.

It was too much for the Queen. She fell to the lowest of points, seeking aid from a man with whom deals were said to come at an immeasurable price.

Such a warning fell on deaf ears, for she was ruined. Destroyed. There was nothing left to lose.

The man- the monster- spoke to her of a curse, and she worked hard to come into its possession, for it promised to ruin those who had continually bested her.

At first, she was unsuccessful; sacrificing her prized steed to perform the darkest of magic, but such a loss was not enough. The price was much higher.

So she sacrificed her father.

She shed a great many tears for what she had done, and, to this day, she sheds a great many more, but the sad truth was that such a loss had seemed worth it in her darkest hours.

With her price paid... She was able to preform the most despicable of curses the land had ever seen, and she took great pleasure in visiting the princess and her betrothed on their wedding day and warning them of the doom that was soon to come.

Discovering the princess to be with child, the Queen set out to slay the babe, following word of a prophecy wherein the princess's daughter would act as a Savior... Where she would be the Hope.

Once again, the Queen was bested; the child surviving and escaping to another realm.

Such a thing seemed of little consequence however, when finally- after all of the times she had failed- the Queen _succeeded_. She _won_.

She tore up that hateful world which had treated her so cruelly and created a new story. A story in which things would finally go her way... Such a story was never written down, and perhaps that is for the best...

The Queen was elated at first, thinking herself the only one privy to the memories of that other world. She watched on hungrily as those that had bested her, displease her, hated her went about their sad, sorry little lives like the bovine creatures she knew them to be.

Such pleasure soon gave way to boredom, however... Boredom at having the entire town brainwashed beneath her thumb.

So she wished for a child, and a week or so later, she adopted a young boy, and things were better for her then than they had ever been in her whole life.

But eventually... The boy grew distant from her... Poisoned by a book bestowed upon him by the woman who had destroyed the Queen's life in that other land. The boy began to speak of things which he had no business knowing about, and his love for the Queen turned into something else... Something that hurt her in a way she didn't know it was possible to hurt... And when she thought she was in just about the greatest amount of pain she could bare without surely going crazy... The boy ran away... And he found his 'real' mother.

And it turned out the Queen was able to hurt just that little bit more than she had believed possible.

She hated the woman the boy bought back with him; a pretty little thing but possessing an acidic tongue and the inability to comprehend rules and boundaries. She strived endlessly to rid herself of the newcomer, her mind churning hatefully as little by little she began to notice things about the woman her son seemed to desperate to call mother.

Unsettling things.

Time started again, and it started fast, and the woman the Queen looked to with such hatred proved herself to be a much greater force to be reckoned with than first anticipated.

Before long... The Queen was almost_ sure_ as to the identity of the young woman.

This knowledge only served to have her desperate to rid herself of her unwelcome guest all the more, but when she came across the young woman battling her way through a storm, she took a brief moment's leave of her senses and invited her into the comfort of her own home.

The woman was irritating, and she was bothersome, but she was also beautiful, as the Queen began to learn as time went on. Slowly, hate turned into a curious sort of companionship, which eventually became friendship- although both women were far too stubborn to admit to such a thing- and finally... It became love.

... And it is _because_ of the Queen's love for the woman that when she thought she had been betrayed- finding a series of documents suggesting that her lover had gone behind her back to take custody of the boy- that she made a terrible mistake... She sought out a man whom she had no business calling upon, but alas, he was a soul so desperate that he had no choice but to adhere to her wishes... She harnessed a small amount of magic and brought it into this realm... Magic in the form of a poisoned apple... She... Sh-she gifted the woman with the tainted fruit in the form of a pie, unable to bear the pain of the other's hateful deception...

The Queen soon learned of her mistake in thinking the young woman guilty... But by then it was too late, and she found her lying as though dead on the floor, and she realized that no matter how much pain one has suffered within their lifetime, there can _always_ be a hurt that is worse than anything endured before... She wept over the young woman bitterly... Placing a kiss on her lips as she reached the despicable realization of the truth... And the woman awoke... Because the Queen's love was true... But for her to have done such a thing... To have harmed the young woman in such a way... It weighed on the Queen heavily, and she began to unravel as guilt threatened to consume her whole and her heart began to ache as though it were a rotting tooth.

Then, when she finally reached her worst, the young woman came through at her best... The Queen tried to tell her friend what she had done... But her... Her f-friend explained to her that she was h-happy... That she didn't want to _know_ because she was _happy_...

That the _Queen_ made her happy...

Only of course, she didn't _know_ that her companion was the Queen...

The Evil Queen...

And now, perhaps, that unhappy little girl who has done so much wrong in her life to try and compensate for the ill-hand she believed she had been dealt has finally played all of her winning cards... Maybe this is the wrong from which there is no redemption..."

A heavy silence falls over them as the brunette finishes all that she has to say, the book sitting untouched on her lap beneath her folded hands. She sniffs as salted tears trickle unchecked from sooty lashes and falls lightly backwards onto the bed, exhausted. She is surprised when she feels the mattress dip a little to her side, the blonde moving to lie stiffly next to her. She takes a chance and reaches for the younger woman's hand, and, while she is not rewarded with the responding squeeze she'd hoped for, the Sheriff doesn't pull her hand away either.

"...I did it with a pair of scissors."

"...Wh-what?"

"My scar. I did it with a pair of scissors. I was nineteen and I needed money and a friend of a friend told me he could get me a job dancing at this club opposite the gas station if I wanted it. I _didn't_ want it, but I didn't want to end up kicked out of the apartment I was crashing at more.

So I danced.

I never really thought I was pretty when I was younger, I was just kind of awkward and I didn't like the shape of my face. It was nothing overwhelming, I just always kind of wanted to look different... So that people would look at me and think I was pretty.

They looked at me when I danced.

And you know something? When they looked at me when I danced, I realized that I never wanted anyone to look at me like that again. I realized I didn't want to be pretty after all...

Not if that was the way people would look at me...

So I marked myself. It was stupid really, and with the amount of whisky I drank that night I'm lucky that scar is all that I got... But it worked.

People don't look at me that way anymore."

"... Have you ever told anyone about it before?"

"No...Why?"

"Because someone needs to tell you just how stupid you really are... You are beautiful, Emma."

"Thank you."

"Thank you for telling me..."

"... What I did, it was stupid. A whole_ ton_ of stuff I've done is stupid... But I've never done anything as bad as what you did..."

"...I-"

"- But for all of the shitty things I've done... Do you know what I have to defend myself with? I can argue that I was drunk, that I was poor, that I didn't know any better, that it was a side-effect of my upbringing... Fair arguments... But all in all what they boil down to is I did the bad things I've done because it was what was best for me at the time. _You_ did what was best for you too... Only... You had your own reasons... I guess what I'm _trying_ to say is... The way I see it, I have two options right now: I can tell you that you've done terrible things and I can walk out that door and never speak to you again... Or I can try to get my head around the fact that you've done terrible things because you were in a terrible place..."

Regina turns to study the blonde; her heart pounding as she replays the Sheriff's wording over and over in her mind.

_I can try to get my head around it._

_I can try._

_I will try._

_Oh god, please._

Struggling for something to say and unable to take the silence that threatens to drive her mad, the brunette pushes herself cautiously up onto her elbow and looks down into pensive green eyes. She moves slowly, crucially aware of just how much hangs in the balance, and brushes her lips against the younger woman's, running her hand gently up the Sheriff's shirt and tracing the lines of the scar she knows so well beneath. Closing her eyes and deepening her kiss, she rolls onto the blonde, keeping her pinned beneath her slim frame and sighing as pale hands find hers.

"I... I'm going to put my neck on the line and hope you're entertaining the second of your two options?"

"... Well... The benefits do outweigh the faults."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Hot sex mostly..."

The brunette's eyes widen comically and she allows herself a timid smirk that widens salaciously as the blonde grins up at her, leaning back down and capturing the younger woman's lips with new passion.


	77. Chapter 77

**A/N: **_I should REALLY be working, but you can thank a certain picture flying around on tumblr yesterday. You know the one I mean._

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For the longest time the brunette refrains from making a sound; simply toying with pale curls as she brushes her lips softly against the Sheriff's. The blonde's skin hosts a delicate tang of salted iron and it occurs to the Mayor that despite a quick change of clothes, Emma remains in much the same state as when she'd fled the mansion during the early hours of the morning.

In much the same state as when the imp had held her captive.

She frowns, pulling back so that she can observe the younger woman with troubled eyes, before leaning forward and placing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss at the Sheriff' brow. She sighs as pale arms encircle her waist tightly and speaks into tangled tresses.

"I was so worried about you..."

Her words are met with silence and she swiftly reprimands herself for speaking aloud. She is crucially aware of the fact that neither of them know exactly what to say, and she is terrified of breaking the fragile sweetness that now lingers between them. As if sensing her sudden tension, the blonde plays her own fingers over luxurious silk, nipping at the exposed flesh of the Mayor's throat gently, causing the latter to let out a small moan.

Regina complies gratefully as strong thighs tighten around her hips and the Sheriff flips them easily so that she lies on her back beneath a curtain of cornsilk curls; Emma's eyes dark as her long hair casts her face into shadow.

The blonde works the buttons to the Mayor's shirt slowly, her eyes cast down to the task at hand while she captures her bottom lip between her teeth. Regina watches her silently, drinking in lustful eyes, slim fingers and slightly dirty cheeks. Faint tear-tracks remain curiously visible- marring enviably high bones- and she runs a hand gently over a denim clad thigh. Her vision becomes obscured with the Sheriff unclasps the last of the small buttons and leans forward to taste the delectable flesh revealed beneath.

The Mayor arches her back a little, using her body rather than her words to convey what she needs, and she is swiftly sated as delicate lace is shoved roughly upwards to be replaced by warm lips. She plays her hands over the soft cotton of the blonde's rather boyish hoody affectionately, relishing the strength and power that emanates from the lean muscle beneath her fingertips as she muses on the way Emma's go-to response when things get a little stressful is to adopt this hungrier, darker persona.

Purely sexual.

She finds she is at peace with this now, slowly realizing that the younger woman's lustful approach to what she herself would have wished was a more intimate moment is no reflection on _her_, but simply one on the Sheriff's coping mechanisms. She is momentarily cruelly reminded of the way Emma had taken her in the jail cell upon recovering from the hateful effects of that tainted apple but is able to push this aside now.

Emma_ knows_.

Emma knows _everything_.

_And she may not be happy about it, may not be happy at _all_, but she's_ here_. She stayed._

The brunette sniffs lightly as she realizes that, just as the younger woman had doubted if she was worth being found, she herself has never quite believed she was worth _staying_ for.

_I was worth it. It's just nobody saw that._

But isn't that sort of the same thing?

The Sheriff stills as she senses the Mayor's silent sob, desisting with the wet trail she creates within the valley between the brunette's breasts hesitantly. Letting out a low sigh, she turns her head to the side, resting her cheek on bare flesh and closing her eyes as slender arms rest firmly around her. She strokes a finger lightly over the delicate ripple of the darker woman's ribs, adopting a small smile as a light tremor reminds her of Regina's ticklish side. Burying her face back into velvety skin, she places a hard, decidedly wet kiss just above the Mayor's heart, the gesture purposefully exaggerated and audible.

And just like that, as they both descend into light, amiable laughter, each woman comes to the beautiful realization that it might just be possible for things to be okay between them.

Glancing down at Emma as the younger woman remains face down between her breasts, Regina rolls her eyes and prods at a narrow shoulder playfully, smiling as the Sheriff looks up at her before adopting a tone of arrogance and plucking at soft cotton.

"Is this even a _woman's_ sweatshirt?"

"Dunno-"

A waterfall of curls as the blonde pushes herself up and pulls it over her head swiftly, the Mayor's hands finding her bare stomach instinctively.

"-Want to check the label?"

Regina rolls her eyes and shakes her head, dark coals following the course of the faded material as the Sheriff sends it flying across the room. Raising an eyebrow and smirking back up at her, the brunette regards the younger woman appreciatively as the latter looks down at her with shy curiosity.

"How does it work?"

"How does what work?"

"... Magic?"

The blonde's tone is low, and her face is carefully free from any expression save for mild interest. The brunette swallows, not sure how best to approach the matter.

"Well... what would you like to know, dear?"

"... Can you... Will you show me?"

Studying Emma levelly as the younger woman continues to captivate her with those curious green eyes, the Mayor nods slowly, holding her hand up deliberately between them. She allows a mild tremor of force to flow up through her extended limb, her fingers exuding a delicate purple haze and a subtle heat. Keeping her eyes trained on Emma, she moves her glowing hand so that it hovers just shy of the blonde's bare stomach. With her blood thrumming loudly in her ears, she sees rather than hears the small noise of apprehension that comes from the woman above her, but the Sheriff doesn't flinch, and so she slowly closes the distance and presses her fingers against soft flesh.

Emma's eyes widen at this new contact, but amongst the mixture of emotions she feels, fear is not one of them, and, while she detests such Freudian navel gazing- _I'm just me, just Emma, who gives a flying shit?_- she can't help but acknowledge the significance in this. On cue, Regina speaks quietly, the curious warmth from her hand- a heat that shouldn't be possible- thrumming soothingly against taut muscle in a way that the blonde finds inexplicably pleasant.

"This won't hurt."

"I know."

The Sheriff's voice is barely a whisper as she continues to study the hand which warms her skin with wide-eyed wonder, and Regina nods as though in agreement. Removing her slender fingers, the flesh below the younger woman's bellybutton glows a warm red as though sunburnt, but the brunette knows it is merely a reaction to the heat bestowed on fair skin rather than any cause for concern. Glancing up at the blonde quickly, she wets her bottom lip before returning her attention to the hand that hovers between them.

The small flick she gives of her wrist is slower- carrying less finesse- than she could be capable of, but she is reluctant to make any fast movements in fear of scaring the Sheriff. She imagines Emma's clear trust will keep her in place, but she has no wish to give the younger woman any cause for alarm whether she responds visibly or not.

"Oh..."

Regina bites back a smile at the childish squeak from above as her unseen ministrations have the clasp of the blonde's jeans coming swiftly undone. She slows her hand even more as she watches- along with the trembling Sheriff- as the zipper to Emma's Levi's drags slowly downwards to reveal gray cotton.

"Fuck..."

The Sheriff captures her gaze with stunned green eyes, her face pale but her breathing noticeably heavier. The brunette smirks, quelling the power that thrums from her slim fingers and reaching around with both hands to cup pert denim amiably, threading her thumbs through the blonde's belt loops and tugging at the coarse material gently.

"Is that a request?"

Emma snaps out of her bewildered daze abruptly, eyes flickering feverishly over the Mayor's delicate features before letting out a nervous laugh. She pushes herself up off the brunette swiftly, standing precariously over the darker woman as she balances on the soft mattress and shimmies out of her jeans; careful not to stumble and fall on top of the brunette.

Regina watches in amusement, deftly stabilizing the younger woman with a hand flashing up to steady a skinny hip before the Sheriff lowers herself back down cautiously to straddle slender thighs. She raises her own hand and flicks her wrist wildly, adopting a playful grin as the older woman raises an eyebrow in bemusement.

"I was just checking."

Emma confides lightly, before shrugging and attacking the delicate catch to the Mayor's dress pants manually. Regina shakes her head in mock despair, swiftly unclasping the blonde's simple, black bra as the latter tugs valiantly at the soft linen that conceals her prize. She lifts her hips obligingly, allowing herself a small, secretive smile as she watches the Sheriff take the time to fold expensive fabric carefully and lean over to place the small bundle beside the bed.

Taking advantage of the blonde's position, Regina snakes her hand beneath a slender thigh smoothly, flipping the younger woman onto her back on the expansive bed and pinning her down once more; teeth grazing pale flesh deliberately. She catches a momentary glimpse of smeared scarlet beneath Sheriff's breast and her eyes flicker to the white lines that encircle slim wrists like curious bracelets. She is given little time to dwell on such things, however, as a devious hand slips between them and slides sweetly beneath the delicate lace of her underwear to find her wanting wetness.

She reciprocates gladly, pulling aside flimsy cotton while nipping cruelly at the sharp line of the blonde's jaw as Emma deepens her ministrations and hisses encouragingly next to her ear. As she climbs ever higher and ever closer to the edge of pure pleasure, she throws caution to the wind and allows just a little of the curious heat to thrum through her busy fingers, moving swiftly to swallow the Sheriff's cry of surprise as the younger woman comes immediately undone beneath her.

Chuckling huskily, the brunette growls as she is clumsily flipped onto her back by the shaking blonde as the Sheriff takes her over the edge, Emma's legs trembling ever so slightly as she clambers breathlessly on top, her eyes deep pools of emerald as she watches the Mayor squeeze her own eyes shut and bite her lip as she goes over. Collapsing onto the darker woman with a light chuckle at the winded gasp this garners her, the blonde lies with her head rested within the hollow of the brunette's shoulder as they struggle to regulate their breathing. Closing her eyes and resting a hand gently on the soft flesh of the Mayor's stomach she sighs quietly.

"I love you."

Regina smiles, her own eyes closed in exhaustion as she brings her arms gently around to encircle the Sheriff; wishing they could remain lying this way, but knowing that Emma needs sleep- bathing wouldn't go amiss either- and not quite hopeful enough to believe the blonde the sort for slumbering in another's arms. Speaking into tangled curls softly, she runs a finger gently down the length of the younger woman's spine, causing the Sheriff to twitch amusingly.

"And I you, which is why I hope you wont take it to heart when I insist you spend a good amount of time under the shower, before getting straight back into bed... You must be exhausted..."

"Oh look, it seems I've acquired a moth...er..."

"... It seems you have..."

The silence is more awkward than it is tense and Regina brushes the comment off swiftly.

"You need sleep... _I_ need sleep... As I'm sure Henry does too, but perhaps it is for the best that we sort a few things out between us while he slumbers peacefully within your mo-... Mary Margaret's care."

"...Sort things out between us how?"

The blonde tenses immediately within the Mayor's arms, and Regina sighs as she supposes that no matter what has transpired between the two of them, the subject of Henry will be one that may cause yet more discomfort. Deciding to go with what is- ironically- a less dangerous course of discussion, she plays with a stray curl of long hair absently as she mutters sleepily into the crown of the younger woman's hair.

"Well, for one... How we plan on dealing with that despicable little imp..."


	78. Chapter 78

**A/N: **_I'm free! I am officially no longer a student... So yes... Please let me know of all your Swan Queen hopes and dreams and I will see what I can do to make them happen!_

* * *

The brunette bends down to collect her son's book which had tumbled, forgotten, to the floor a few hours earlier following her plea for understanding from the blonde. She tests its weight within her slender fingers pensively before looking up from the ornate cover to regard the Sheriff with a small smirk.

She had finally managed to force Emma into the shower as insisted, but had remained politely outside the door, perching on the bed with a tired yawn. She had reckoned on the blonde wishing to clean herself off scrupulously following her ordeal with the pawn broker, and had been intuitively sure that the younger woman may not want an audience while doing so. She had begun to worry just a little as the minutes ticked steadily by, but eventually the pounding of the water and the hum of the pipes had ceased, before finally Emma had come to lean in the doorway; skin flushed an angry red, her face curiously pale. Cracking a wide yawn, the blonde had rested her head against the doorframe until Regina had instructed her firmly to go back to bed.

Which is where she lies now, with her hair tangled and sodden, hiding her face, and her pale limbs drawn in close and clad in one of Henry's larger t-shirts. The Queen sighs. She had padded into her son's room- following Emma's raised eyebrow at the satin nightdress held out to her- and fetched the younger woman one of his tops without even thinking on it.

And now that she_ is_ thinking on it... She finds she's... Well, she's_ okay_ with it.

And logically, why _shouldn't_ she be? All of the poisonous bickering and proclamation from either side of "he's my son" had been the result of a fear that the boy should be taken away by the other.

She doesn't think Emma's going anywhere though.

Not now. Not after all that's happened.

The subject of Henry is still makes her uneasy, but she finds that rather than the hateful anger she had tried to banish when she had started caring for the younger woman, she feels only a quiet nervousness. Perching on the edge of the bed, she brushes damp curls- rolling her eyes as she imagines the knotted nightmare that will result in the Sheriff's forgetting to pull a comb through them- from the blonde's face and smirks when the younger woman doesn't react in the slightest to the intrusion; sound asleep.

* * *

Mary Margaret smiles as she ascends gracefully from sleep. It is a curious thing to have Charming slumbering beside her, but it is a beautiful thing more than anything else. She kisses his bare shoulder lightly before slipping quietly from beneath the sheets and padding out into the living room. Grinning as she spots Henry curled up in the overstuffed armchair- the hazy morning light illuminating his face as he sleeps soundly- she allows herself a moments thought on just how blessed she is with how things have turned out.

She has her Charming, her daughter, her grandson.

She's finally won.

She resists the urge to climb up the iron stairs to the blonde's bedroom, knowing that despite the change in herself, Emma remains much the same, and is neither a morning person or one to appreciate the brimming wealth of emotions she wishes to bestow upon her. The notion appears moot anyway, as she spots a scrap of paper lying on the large dining room table.

_MM,_

_Regina called about trouble. Have gone to check it out._

_E x_

The schoolteacher frowns down at her housemate's note for what feels like a long time. She is pleasantly surprised that Emma has had the courtesy to leave her one at all; the Sheriff more often than not forgetting that she has a friend who worries for her.

_A mother that worries for her._

Not only has the blonde taken a second to leave her the scrap of messy scrawl, but she feels a sweet hum of happiness as her eyes flicker repeatedly back to the small _x_ that finishes the note. She can count the times Emma has ended her texts or messages with a kiss on one hand, and the fact that she should do so now, after the tension between them the previous evening, is not something the raven-headed woman will shrug away lightly.

_My little girl..._

She thinks back to Emma grumbling at her for calling her this- the blonde stating moodily that she was of a larger size than the schoolteacher herself- and shakes her head in bemusement. It brings her back to the subject of the note, however, and she feels a curious twinge of disquiet low down in her stomach.

She hasn't quite got her head around Emma and Regina... well... yes... And wonders if she ever will. She feels what she knows is an immature sense of irritation at the blonde that she should pick the Queen of _all_ people to bond with. It suits the younger woman's contrary character beautifully, but she finds it hard to see the amusing side to such irony.

"Oh, Emma, why would you go over there alone now she has magic..."

She scolds herself unhappily for such thoughts- and isn't it curious that it is in the Sheriff's lower tone she does this- taking a resigned seat at the table and fidgeting with the note with a sigh. Despite everything that has happened between Regina and herself- the Queen and herself- she knows she is wrong to think such a thing. The brunette saved her daughter. She had saved her and she had fretted over her and she had cried for her.

And she had kissed her.

She had kissed her when she must have _known_ doing so could break the curse... And the curse could only have broken if the love was true on either side... Emma loves her.

No. Emma _loved_ her.

But what now? Now that the curse has broken?

She sighs, wondering what in the world David will make of all this, but she is wise enough in herself to know that love is not something that ebbs and fades quite in time with the pleasure and hardships of life. Especially for one as stubborn as the Sheriff.

She loves her.

And she supposes that's why she isn't halfway to the Queen's mansion right now with her heart bursting with fear for the younger woman. She_ does_ feel a small amount of dread, and she _does_ feel the uncomfortable urge to drag her daughter back home where she can keep an eye on her, but she chalks both of these notions down to maternal instinct.

_How curious, to be able to say that..._

Regina will not harm the blonde.

Which just begs the question of what 'trouble' has come to pass.

She imagines she has a good idea just what trouble the Evil Queen could find herself in.

* * *

There is something alarmingly, well, _homely_ about the situation the blonde finds herself in, and she struggles to swallow her cereal as her throat closes up with ingrained fear at the notion. Winning the battle with her Cheerios, she sucks on the tip of her spoon thoughtfully as she regards Regina across the table.

The brunette has her dark eyes cast down to her plate where she cuts up a honeydew melon into small, bite-sized pieces, her rich hair slightly mussed and looking disarmingly pretty in a simple cream blouse. Feeling the Sheriff's curious green gaze upon her, she looks up and offer's the younger woman a small smile as she holds out an offering of the sweet fruit.

"Thanks."

She nods, bringing a piece of melon to her own lips and tasting it pensively. They have said little to one another since the blonde had awoken and stated she was 'hungry enough to eat her own hands', but it has not been an uncomfortable silence, and her smile widens as she continues to study hellishly tousled hair and pale, bare features over her son's faded navy t-shirt.

"So, uh... Are we going to put Mr Gold in jail or something?"

"Is that what you want?"

"I... I don't know... I don't really know what to think or what makes sense anymore. I mean, he's like a wizard, right? Won't he be able to get out?"

Regina smiles pleasantly, nodding in agreement as she feels a peculiar sense of amused adoration that the Sheriff should speak of their predicament with the little understanding she has of the ways of magic.

"Correct, dear."

"Then why-"

"Why cuff him to the bed?"

"Yeah."

"I suppose as a form of retribution. Rumplestiltskin is many things, but not one of those is dim-witted. The parallel of regaining consciousness in such a position and what he did to _you_ will not be lost on him. He is a dangerous man, dear, as you well know, but... I am dangerous too... And it's not just _me_, don't forget."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, if it were a case of simply going up against me then he would likely have little issue... But in doing so he goes up against you... And your mother and father... These people, Emma, the people of Storybrooke, I brought them here to... to suffer. They were your parent's people. They will take great issue with Gold if he were to go up against their royalty. He is powerful, but so is the anger of the masses."

"So... What do we do?"

"If you want him incarcerated then there are ways to do so... They aren't easy, and they are time consuming, so we may find ourselves in danger... Unfortunately, we can't just rid ourselves of him, you see. He is the dark one."

"You mean kill him? We're not_ killing_ him, Regina!"

"... No... But after what he did to you..."

"I... Look, help me understand something. Everyone I knew before the curse broke... They make sense, you know?"

"... I'm not following you."

"Like, Mary Margaret is Snow White. In all the stories of Snow White, she is kind and loved and stuff... Mary Margaret is like that too... And Granny, and Ruby, and David... They all kind of 'fit'. Will Gold?"

"How do you mean?"

"Will Rumplestiltskin possess the same qualities as Gold?"

"... It is different with him, dear, for it appears the curse never affected him..."

"Then they are the same! Just... now he has his powers or whatever! But they're the same person!"

"... I suppose... Why?"

"I... Well... I kind of_ liked_ Gold... And I think he liked _me_..."

"What on earth do you mean by _that_?"

The brunette's voice is hard and stony, and the Sheriff quickly goes on to try and explain herself.

"I mean that he and I had a mutual... tolerance... for each other."

"I see... I presume this is before he drugged you, kidnapped you and cuffed you pretty much_ naked_ to a bed? Hmm?"

"Regina..."

"No, no, _continue_, I'm dying to know where this is all _going_, dear!"

"...Just for the record, I _asked_ him to take my dress off because I was fucking burning up and not thinking straight... My _point_ is... He went to all that trouble, because of this _deal_ he wanted me to fulfill."

"So?"

"So... I want to know what he wants."

"Why?"

"Because, whatever it is made him desperate enough to do what he did..."

"Emma! He did what he did because he's a monster! He's the Dark One! He-"

"- I know! But what harm does it do to ask?"

"... You want to find Gold... _The Dark One_... And ask him how you could be of service...?"

"Yup."

"... _Un_believable..."

Regina shakes her head slowly, spreading her fingers out before her in irritable despair as the Sheriff regards her awkwardly.

"I just... If we can nip this in the bud and give him what he wants then... Well... Maybe he'll leave us alone and... Regina... I love you, and I'm sitting here with you eating a bowl of fucking Cheerios, despite _everything_ I know... Maybe Gold has some good in him too..."

"Oh God..."

"I'm not being stupid!"

"No... You're being your mother..."

"Oh, shut up, I-"

The blonde is saved from whatever punishment these words would garner her as a loud rap at the front door echoes into the kitchen. Furious Spanish eyes flash suddenly with ill-hidden fear and the Sheriff bites her lip as she pushes herself from the table warily.

"Are you going to get that?"

Emma whispers, having moved so that she stands close to the brunette, her expression grave and her jaw clenched. Regina regards her nervously for a second before sighing and walking slowly towards the door.

"I can't hide in the house forever."

"Do you want me to get it?"

"Miss Swan... You are clad in my son's t-shirt and a pair of my lace panties, I don't think you getting the door is going to be giving off the right message, do you?"

"... I'm just trying to help..."

"... I know, dear... I know."

Coming to a halt a little way from the door, the brunette raises her voice and barks authoritatively.

"Who's there?"

Silence.

"Answer me."

The Queen places a hand warningly at the blonde's elbow as the latter moves to stand in front of her.

"Answer me, who's there!?"

"... It's me..."

Recognizing the voice instantly, the brunette shares a cautious glance with the Sheriff before moving towards the door.

"I suggest you go get your jeans, dear."


	79. Chapter 79

**A/N: **_Could have gone two ways with this... hopefully you like the one I ended up taking... Enjoy! And please comment! :)_

* * *

Regina waits for the Sheriff to slip from view before she pulls the door apprehensively open and regards her visitor warily.

"Can I... Can I come in?"

Snow's enquiry is rife with awkwardness, and she pulls her white, moleskin coat tightly to her wholesome frame. The brunette raises an eyebrow but says nothing, simply hesitating for what seems to the Schoolteacher to be a cruelly long time before stepping aside so that the younger woman can move past her.

The Queen opens her mouth to bark at the raven-headed woman to remove her shoes, but the small flinch this action alone garners her has her shrugging irritably and stalking back towards the kitchen with a toss of her pretty, dark tresses.

Mary Margaret follows behind nervously, green eyes flickering about feverishly in search of the blonde. In search of comfort. They fall upon the half eaten bowl of cereal left abandoned opposite the seat the Mayor now reclaims and she feels an odd wave of discomfort deep down in her stomach.

There is just something so bizarre in the notion of her girl and the Queen sharing a domestic breakfast.

"Where's Emma?"

"Don't worry, I haven't done anything to her..."

Regina's tone is spiteful, but laced with a bitterness the schoolteacher doesn't miss. Sighing, Snow takes her daughter's recently vacated seat and plays the spoon through the sodden Cheerios pensively.

"I know that, Regina..."

Glancing back up, she frowns as the brunette shrugs with an air of arrogance as though she couldn't care less either way when the younger woman knows that not to be true. She feels a small twinge of sadness within herself that the blonde is clearly more comfortable here with the Queen then back home, and, while she is understanding of the fact... It still hurts.

"... I know that."

"Then why are you here? What do you want?"

"What do I _want_? Regina... I have my daughter back! I finally have my little girl back, and instead of being able to enjoy it, to able to hold her the way I should finally get to do, she's... sh-she's in another woman's arms! What I want is a chance to speak to Emma about all this! About the curse... About... Have you even _told_ her?! Does she know what you _did?!_"

"Yes... I told her everything..."

"... Then... But she's... She's-"

"-She's still here?"

Snow doesn't answer, but she doesn't need to. Regina glares at her poisonously, before telling herself that this is a situation in which she has an opportunity to either help or hinder things between herself and the Sheriff. It is not instinctual- in fact, it goes against her very grain- but she sighs as she leans back in her chair and regards the younger woman solemnly.

"On the day of the storm, I found your daughter walking around like a complete idiot on the rain, soaking wet, and with plans to cut through about three miles of woods without a clue where she was going. I invited her in... I despised her, and not only that... I knew exactly _who_ she was, you understand? It would have been all too easy to let her continue wandering around the way she was, but I didn't want the girl to come to such a hatefully pathetic end.

For no greater reason at the time than... Miss Swan was better than that. It was just too_ easy_ after all the clashing of horns between herself and I.

Unfortunately for me... Emma can be rather intoxicating when she puts her mind to it, or rather, _thinks_ before she speaks-"

The Mayor catches the black look that crosses the schoolteachers face upon her choice of the word 'intoxicating' and she tries to decide whether the blonde would find her mother's reaction amusing or embarrassing. Sighing, she gives a regally dismissive flick of her hand.

"She intrigued me... She can really be quite lovely, despite hiding it remarkably well..."

Snow catches the small smirk that tugs at the brunette's lips at this statement and finds that she follows suite despite herself.

"She can..."

Nodding, the Mayor sighs as she decides to drop her tone of mere pleasantries; all too aware that despite the nervousness that had crossed the Sheriff's face upon recognizing her mother's voice, Emma will only remain absent from their company for so long. Her voice low, and playing with her own knife awkwardly to match Mary Margaret's continual stirring of the spoon, she continues in a voice that causes the younger woman to look up at her with a frown.

"... I didn't know if she would come back... and I didn't call her here under false pre tense either so you know... I was fairly certain she would come in response to my call... But her_ staying_ here with me is as much a surprise to me as it is to you... You have a girl you should be proud of, Snow... To a point where it concerns me..."

"I... I... How do you mean?"

"She wishes to track down Rumplestiltskin."

"As do I! After what he-"

"- She thinks she can help him. She thinks that if she offers to take up her part of a deal they made- she is lovely, but she can be alarmingly _stupid_ in the process- that he will... That he will leave her, us, _everyone_ alone."

"What?!"

"... Don't be so surprised... She is _your_ blood after all..."

"She... well yes, she is, but... I mean, you can't let her actually _do_ it! She doesn't understand what he's capable of doing! She-"

"- She understands enough..."

"_No!_ Regina, you and I both know what happens to those who deal with Gol- Rumplestiltskin! He kidnapped her, true, but she doesn't know how _bad_ things could have gone for her with that beast-"

"- When I walked into that apartment, I found the hatter, not Emma. He was going to kill me, and then he was going to murder your daughter. He told me so. He told me all this so very casually due to the fact that the Dark One was sprawled out on the floor suffering a sure concussion after your little piece of sunshine incapacitated him. The hatter drew his shot and I hit the floor... I hit the floor because Emma came running in and sent us both crashing down to avoid the bullet before penetrating Jefferson with one of her own... She came running from the bathroom, where she had been hiding... And she had_ reason_ to hide. She shot the hatter because she understood _perfectly_ what happens to those who cross the Dark One... She just called him by a different name. The girl was... W-was smeared with her own b-blood, filthy, shaking, half naked and seriously injured... She understands just fine."

"...Oh Emma..."

"Yeah?"

The schoolteacher glances up, startled, to find the blonde making her way into the kitchen. The Sheriff sniffs and tosses her hair arrogantly, clearly trying to pretend she's totally at ease with her present company. The action lets both darker women know that the blonde has heard none of their previous conversation, and Regina shoots the schoolteacher a warning glance, but the raven-headed woman addresses her daughter incredulously.

"She says you want to help Gold?!"

Emma looks from the irate paler woman to the Queen and throws her hands up in the air childishly as she leans against the kitchen counter.

"You came over here to _yell_ at me?!"

"No! I came over here to talk to you... _Now_ I'm here to yell at you!"

Green eyes roll moodily, and the brunette can't help but smirk at the peculiar family dynamic taking place. Clearing her throat, she regards Emma pensively.

"As you can see, your mother is about as keen on the idea as I am..."

"Why the hell did you_ tell_ her?!"

"Because I_ care_ about you! I know this is all a lot to take in, Emma, but you're my _daughter,_ and I_ love_ you!"

"...You can't just say stuff like that because you know who I am now..."

Her words are spiteful, but her expression reads only of nervous discomfort, and she crosses her arms over her chest defensively. Mary Margaret frowns, looking quickly to the Mayor who raises an eyebrow but remains silent, before turning back to the blonde.

"I loved you before the curse broke, too, Emma... It wasn't just Regina looking for you..."

Emma sighs, staring down at her feet awkwardly.

"... I love you too. Both of you... Damn it."

She lets out a low chuckle, and the brunette rolls her eyes while the schoolteacher pushes herself from the table and pulls the younger woman into a tight embrace. Dark eyes find the blonde's green ones as the latter regards her wordlessly from over Mary Margaret's shoulder and the Queen offers the Sheriff a small smile.

Wrapping her arms around the raven-headed woman, Emma closes her eyes for a brief second, before muttering loudly.

"So where do you guys think we should start our search?"

Snow sighs, pushing the blonde away to regard her at arm's length before letting out a frustrated huff and turning to the brunette.

"I don't think we're going to be able to talk her out of it..."

"I doubt it. I've been trying to talk Miss Swan out of things since she _got_ here to no avail..."

Emma grins triumphantly, and Regina has a sneaking suspicion that, had her mother not been present, she would have had quite the fountain of innuendos to bring to _that_ last statement.

She smirks.

"Go home, get changed, spend some time with your mother and meet me here at noon... And send Henry back home..."

There is a brief moment's hesitation, but for Regina it feels as though her heart will burst in that short space of time. Finally, the blonde offers her a small nod and a brilliant smile.

"Alright."


	80. Chapter 80

**A/N: **_This chapter is a bit of an odd one as it is a requested piece. I had planned on jumping ahead a bit, but I had a message expressing that the writer was looking forward to seeing these two scenes I agreed to include. I really hope they're enjoyable to read, as I usually work requests in as a separate piece/ tag story so this is slightly experimental. Please let me know what you think! :)_

* * *

"You stayed over at my moms?!"

Henry pipes up, his eyes wide as he perches on the blonde's bed with his legs crossed upon the fraying covers. She shrugs awkwardly, kicking off her jeans and tossing them over her shoulder to land smartly in the laundry hamper- well, cardboard box- beside the window.

"Well, it was late... She called about a group of people outside her house that were giving her trouble."

"Couldn't she just put a spell on them now?"

"...I don't know... Probably... That wouldn't have been very nice though... "

"She's the Ev-"

"-She's going to do things a little differently this time around."

"How do you know?"

"She told me so."

"Emma you can't-"

"-I can, and I will. Now get up so I can make the bed."

She pushes at him playfully and the small boy rolls off the side of the bed easily, landing in a purposeful heap on the floor at the Sheriff's feet. Rolling her eyes, Emma makes as if to step on him as she leans over to straighten out her bedding; Henry shrieking loudly.

"Don't! Don't! Mercy!"

Chuckling, she pulls him back onto his feet and pulls a fresh pair of jeans from the chaos of her closet, wriggling into them easily.

"Turn around."

Henry does as he's told- waiting patiently as his mother grumbles to herself as she strips off her top and strives to locate a bra- bright eyes falling to the crumpled scraps of paper littering her nightstand, each adorned with his name.

"What are those?"

"Huh?"

"There's paper here with my name on it..."

"Oh... I tried to make an envelope for your card... _Shit._.. The card... Oh, Henry, I'm not sure where it got to... It was in my pocket and I guess-"

"-It's okay... I understand."

The boy assures her hastily, revisited by his previous fear that the blonde might be angry at his irritation of finding her missing. Clearing his throat, he continues cautiously, turning back towards the Sheriff at the sound of bed springs as she perches on the bed to pull on her boots.

"Did Mr Gold really _take_ you?"

"... Yeah... Yeah, he did."

"Did he hurt-"

"-He just wanted something from me, Henry, and I guess he thought if he didn't scare me a bit that I wouldn't listen."

"He scared you?"

"... A little."

"... And your wrists... He did that?"

Glancing down at the white bracelets of scar tissue circling her wrists with a frown, the Sheriff sighs, looking up at the boy with troubled eyes.

"He uh... He tied me up and I over-reacted a bit... It uh... It's not as bad as it looks-"

She shudders, her memory of the time spent in her fevered delirium a hazy nightmare she has no intention of sharing with the boy.

"- Your mom sorted them out after she found me... Kind of neat I guess; like permanent bracelets...'

She holds her arms out to him as she is all too aware of the young brunet's curious gaze, though he strives to disguise it. Welcoming the blonde's invitation, Henry steps forward, taking his mother's hands in his own and inspecting the curious white marks lining her arms with childish interest.

"I'm sorry about your flower..."

He points to the small tattoo on her left wrist- marred with a flash of white as though crossed out; deemed void. She supposes she has no qualms with that period of her life being erased and forgotten.

"It's okay, I'd kind of grown to hate that thing anyway..."

She smiles, taking back her hands and rubbing at her wrists self-consciously. Aware that green eyes still linger on her, she raises an eyebrow, her grin faltering ever so slightly.

"You okay, kid?"

"My mom... She really found you?"

"She did."

"... She asked me about my book when you went missing... About Rumplestiltskin... She... She must have known who you were; that you were Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter..."

"Yeah, she did. She... She knew quite early on, she said."

"She_ told_ you!?"

"Yeah... We discussed the curse... How she did it... _Why_ she did it... "

"... She told you all that?"

"... Your mom feels... She understands what she did was.. Was wrong..."

Emma shrugs dismissively; imagining Henry has a million more questions just burning away, but deciding Regina can take the reigns on the rest. She is cautious about putting words into the brunette's mouth, and this is not a topic to be taken lightly.

"Come on, let's get you home, kid."

Jumping off the bed and ushering him down the stairs, she offers David an awkward smile as the man sits stirring sugar into a steaming mug of tea at the kitchen island.

"Tea, you two?"

Shaking her head and muttering a polite declination, she smirks to herself as Henry belts out a hearty 'no thanks, gramps' as she imagines just what Regina would make of _that_.

* * *

"You're late."

Emma rolls her eyes as the brunette pulls open the heavy wood of the front door, but adopts a small grin as Henry stops in front of Regina and cautiously puts his arms around her.

"Am not, it's like five past twelve."

"Oh, well, will you look at_ that_, and I'd always been led to believe you were_ incapable_ of telling the time..."

"I can tell the _time_, I just don't have a watch..."

The blonde grumbles irritably, Henry's grin a flawless copy of the brunette's, although his mother accessorizes such emotion with a roll of her own glittering eyes.

"Perhaps it's time to invest in one, dear; I do believe it's in your budget."

Regina quips airily, moving aside so that Henry and Emma may enter. The boy looks back at the Sheriff curiously, a little surprised that she is permitted to follow him in. A brief glance shared between the two women addresses this adjustment in the way of things also, and Regina clears her throat, directing them all into the kitchen as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Once seated on one of the elegant chairs surrounding the table, Henry throws the blonde a puzzled glance as she takes a seat opposite him; wondering if he should warn her that she is probably not permitted to do so. To his surprise, the Mayor simply pours three glasses of juice and brings them over carefully, before taking up the empty chair beside him.

"Henry, Emma and I have some things we need to discuss pertaining to Mr Gold-"

"-You mean Rumplestiltskin..."

"Yes... I suppose I do."

"So, I was right this whole time! I was _right_ and you made it so no one would believe me! So that I had to see Archie! So that-"

"- Henry..."

The brunette sighs, looking to the blonde who nibbles at her lip awkwardly. Realizing that in the context of social awkwardness, Emma is hardly likely to be her savior, she opens her mouth to continue when the Sheriff surprises her by interrupting in a low, patient tone.

"Remember what I told you about good and evil?... She _couldn't_ have told you Henry... Even though you were smart enough to figure everything out... Without magic... No one would have listened... She_ protected_ you in a way... But right now, kid, we have to forgive and forget, because we're not out of hot water yet! So I want you to do something for me... For us... Regina and I... We're taking the same side on this one, and just like you did with Operation Cobra, I need you to help me now too... We... We have a _new_ mission..."

"Really?"

Henry looks from the brunette- who regards the younger woman with a peculiar expression- back to Emma and breaks into a grin.

"What is it?!"

"I'll tell you all that in a second. But first... Go and get your book."

"Can we think up a new name, too?"

"Sure, kid."

Beaming, Henry pushes himself from the table, stumbling in his haste to get to the stairs. Shaking her head, the blonde turns to Regina and adopts a frown.

"What... Why are you looking at me like that?"

"... You just... You never cease to amaze me, Miss Swan..."

"Okay..."

"... I couldn't have told Henry..."

"... I know... That's what I _said_..."

Emma frowns, confused.

"... Yes... But you could have done so for Henry's sake; to appease an awkward situation... But you didn't. You_ meant_ it."

"I did... Now quit looking at me like that or we're going to have to explain a whole lot_ more_ to the kid!"

"Ugh..._Really_, Miss Swan."

"_Really_, Madame Mayor."


	81. Chapter 81

**A/N: **_Lyrics not mine, they belong to the wonderful Rob Zombie. As always, I hope you enjoy, and please comment. :)_

* * *

Standing in the doorway and watching as the small brunet flips through the colorful pages of his book, Regina frowns as Emma listens amiably enough to Henry's frantic chatter; long legs crossed on the cool stone floor with her back against the sofa.

"Miss Swan... Could you come here for a second?"

The blonde glances up at her in confusion, having expected the Mayor to come join them after finishing making her promised batch of coffee. Using Henry's skinny shoulder to help pull herself up- the boy sighing playfully- she makes her way over to the brunette who beckons her out into the privacy of the hallway.

"What's up?"

"What _exactly_ were you thinking!?"

"...How'd you mean?"

"I asked you to bring Henry _home_... Not include him in all of_ this_... Don't get me wrong, dear, I appreciate your kind words just now, but you really must have something _wrong_ with you if you think bringing my son into the fray of things is a good idea!"

"...He's my son too."

"Well then, I'm thankful you have so far had little to do with his keeping!"

Green eyes regard the Mayor dangerously, and Regina hazards a guess that the only thing keeping the younger woman from retaliating with hateful venom is the visible evidence of everything which has transpired between them at her wrists.

"Don't."

"Emma... He-"

"He'll find out about this whether we tell him or not, Regina, believe me!... I'd much rather have an idea just what the kid's getting up to and how _much_ he knows, then have him take it upon himself to perform his _own_ investigation... Because he _will_!"

"... Did you tell him what happened?"

"He asked. I confirmed..."

"How much?"

"What do you mean?"

"What did you tell him?"

"Like... Nothing; I'm not an _idiot_!... I just told him that, yes, Mr Gold, uh, 'took' me, and that he wanted something... Henry asked about my wrists and I told him it was no big deal and that you fixed them..."

"... And you claim you're no fool..."

"Jeez, dude, I had to tell him_ something_! The kid-"

"Miss Swan, I am not your 'dude', nor anyone else's... You need to tell Henry the truth."

"_What_ truth?"

"The truth about what Gold- Rumplestiltskin- did to you! Emma, you tell the boy that he merely stowed you away for a little while until you were able to escape and you do him no favours... You could have _died_..."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to just pull the kid aside and be like 'Hey, guess what!? So, I was kinda bleeding pretty profusely, and I blacked out a couple of times, and'-"

"-Oh stop being so _ridiculous_! You're a grown woman; act like one."

"Then what-"

"- He doesn't need to know the details... But you_ can't_ just brush this off... Emma, if you only_ knew_ what a state you looked when I f-found you! I...I-I..."

"_Alright!_... Alright... Ok...Please... Can we not talk about it? Shit..."

"But you have to!"

"Fine. I'll talk to him..."

The pull to the blonde's mouth speaks volumes as to just how keen she is on the idea, and the Queen sighs, leaning against the wall and regarding the Sheriff with troubled eyes.

"I wish I could understand how you work sometimes... I don't... I _really_ don't think this is a good idea."

"What_ choice_ do we have?... So far as I read in that book, we don't stand much of a shot against the Dark One... Not if he decides to come after us now..."

"... Rumplestiltskin is powerful, true... But I am _too_, Emma... He may possess a greater strength, but if we lie low, and we-"

"-That's the _thing_ though..."

"What is?"

"If we lie low!? So far, since the curse broke... I've been at yours, and I've been at home... Hardly 'lying low' in a sense of secrecy. Do you not think that if Gold meant me harm- and I speak of my own safety as it is myself he made this goddamned 'deal' with- he would have shown up by now? He has his magic back! And me?... My part in all this is done! I played my part, and now I'm just plain, old Emma... If Gold meant to finish me... Any of us... Wouldn't we know about it by now?"

"My dear, such faith is foolish..."

"It's not faith. It's logic. I'm not saying the man isn't a threat... I'm simply saying... I think this may be Gold's version of an opportunity... A chance... And I plan to take it... And hell, if I'm wrong... So be it... I'm not going to be any less screwed if the Dark One _plans_ to screw me, you know?"

"... If he plans to what now?"

Regina raises an eyebrow and the blonde blushes and rolls her eyes.

"You know what I mean..."

"... Sadly... I do... Why must you so often be right, dear? It really is rather irksome..."

"My cross to bear, _dear_."

Shaking her head in bemusement, the brunette takes the Sheriff's arm gently and pushes her back towards the drawing room.

"I'll leave it to you to tell Henry what he needs to know... I'll place a call to Sydney... By the sounds of it, you and I are in for a little trip down town."

* * *

_I am the shadow- I am tomorrow_  
_I am the hero with a bloodied whip..._  
_I am so hazardous,_  
_My name is Lazarus._  
_I am a pirate on a devil ship._

"Hey!"

Rolling her eyes, the brunette withdraws her hand from the volume control as Emma taps it irritably away.

"Your taste in... Are we calling this_ music_!?... Is truly appalling."

"Yeah, well, my car; my say."

The blonde grumbles, and and Regina sighs as she recognises their inane bickering for what it really is; comfortably familiar noise to fill the tense void of time as they make their way slowly towards Gold's shop.

So far, the Sheriff has stalled her faithful bug twice since leaving the Mayor's, and, though she mutters to herself as to the pitiful state of her car, neither woman is fooled into thinking the reasoning behind her fractured driving is anything other than the ominous task which lies ahead.

_I am the sickness- I am the quickness._  
_You are the virgin dying in the spring._  
_A hungry fat cat,_  
_looks at you black rats..._  
_I am a dark and wicked thing-_

"- Please, just turn it off!"

The brunette huffs- just a little too high- as she slams her palm against the volume dial; pausing the hateful track as it lilts towards its conclusion. Her breathing is laboured and Emma glances nervously towards her before swallowing audibly and returning her attention shakily to the road.

"Remember what I said... If he was going to hurt us, he would have done so already..."

"I fear you are deluding yourself that all pain must be physical..."

"How do you mean?"

"... I have a lot to lose..."

"... You and me both... But I'm not going to let that happen."

"... I know you_ think_ you mean that, but-"

"-Regina. I mean it. He's not hurting you. He's not hurting Henry... He's not hurting me. Not if he wants me to play his game... And he does... I'd bet my life on it."

"... That's what I worry about."

"... It will be okay... I prom-"

"-Don't."

"Fine. Get your coat. We're here."


	82. Chapter 82

**A/N: **_Enter Gold. _

* * *

_"Fine. Get your coat. We're here."_

The blonde's tone is disconcertingly devoid of emotion and when the Mayor turns to face her, the younger woman's mouth is set in that familiar hard line the brunette decides she will always hate. Nodding- and, despite everything, feeling a small sense of frustration when she realizes that, yet again, Emma is calling the shots- she plucks her suit jacket from the back seat and slips gracefully from the car.

"_Emma!_"

An indignant whisper as the Sheriff slams her car door shut with little consideration to the task at hand. Green eyes flickering up to meet brown as the younger woman pulls her long hair out the back of her leather jacket, Regina frowns as the blonde simply shrugs. When she speaks, however, Emma's tone is low and kind.

"It's not like we're on the down low, Regina... If he didn't hear that, then he's gonna hear that little bell above the damn door..."

"...We're not going to try enter a little more stealthily?"

"Why? I want to talk to him, not sneak up on him."

"My dear, the thought of _you_ 'sneaking up' on _anyone_ is laughable..."

"And here I always thought you'd be such a tough crowd..."

The Sheriff winks; it is an oddly nervous gesture, but still one for which the brunette is thankful. Pulling on her jacket and fussing her dark locks away from her face- _Need to get it cut, with all that's been going on I've been letting it grow out_- she offers the younger woman a wry smile and proceeds to take the lead towards Gold's shop, Emma at her heels.

* * *

"He's not here..."

"I can see that."

The brunette's tone is irritable as she snaps back at the Sheriff, but Emma pays this no mind, simply scanning the eclectic array of junk once again. She has already checked the back of the shop, as well as the small bathroom- against Regina's plea that she wait for her so that they might do so together for safety- to no avail.

"You don't think that, for whatever reason, he didn't get his powers back and he's still up in that apartment, do you?"

"Not a chance."

"But what if-"

"- Even if you were right- which you're not- and Rumpelstiltskin remained devoid of power, Gold is perhaps the only other person I could imagine going to similar lengths as you yourself went to when restrained in such a way... To escape... It is the fault of no villain that the man walks with a limp, Miss Swan."

"But then where-"

"-Ah! I thought I could feel my ears burning!"

The little man chuckles as he appears as if from nowhere, stalking out from the deep shroud of shadow that graces the corner. His eyes sparkle with cruel humor as he watches both women make a bizarre attempt to stand protectively in front of the other.

_How delightful._

"Gold!... You're here!"

"... Observant as ever, Sheriff."

Pretty white teeth flash at him in a snarl and the pawnbroker raises his hands quickly as a sign of peace before pointing to a pair of dusty stools that rest opposite his counter.

"If you would both take a seat."

"We didn't come here to exchange pleasantries, Gold."

The brunette barks and the little man sighs, moving over to the ancient coffee machine in the corner and depressing its power button.

"Curious... I was under the impression that was_ precisely_ the reason Miss Swan was so eager to pay me a visit... Unless you two are already on contradicting pages... But then young love never was-"

"-Shut up. Yes, we're here to talk... "

"So _talk_, Sheriff."

"... What do you want?"

"Miss Swan?"

"You took me for a reason... What was it?"

"Well, if you had spent less time _fussing_ quite so foolishly, you would perhaps remember me explaining a little about your role-"

The Sheriff opens her mouth to unleash whatever venom the pawn broker's comment garners, but the Mayor stills her swiftly, leaning forward on her stool and regarding Gold dangerously.

"You would do well to watch yourself, Rumple..."

Eyes darting about the brunette's fine features, Gold hesitates for a moment before leaning back in his chair and turning to the blonde, offering her a curt nod.

"Yes, you're right. My apologies, Emma... I'm pleased to see your injuries have been suitably taken care of... As I told you at the time; I can only apologize that things went the way they did. Your ill health was _never_ my intention... Alas, if only such recovery were possible for poor master Jefferson..."

The pawnbroker raises an eyebrow as a series of complicated emotions cross the younger woman's face, and Regina speaks up swiftly to break the chilling silence Gold's words garner.

_Now's not the time, dear. I realize with all that's happened there are things you have yet to think on, but please, Emma, not now._

"Tell us what you_ want_, Gold!"

"From you, dearie, I want nothing but the civility to allow me to get on with my business... Miss Swan... I wish to show you something."

The little man rises from his high-backed chair, and for a bizarre second the the blonde imagines he plans to remove his suit pants, but he simply locates a small, silver key from the depths of his pockets and makes his way over to the ornate display cabinet looming behind him. Pulling a large, curious item from its depths, he brings it back to the table and places it in front of the Sheriff before glancing up at his guests and inquiring politely

"Coffee?"

The blonde shakes her head distractedly, green eyes fixed on the heavy fabric that covers whatever object lies beneath. Regina purses her lips and offers him a cold glance.

"Just get on with it..."

Looking to the coffee maker with a wistful glance, Gold resumes his seat with a sigh, dark eyes trained on Emma as he pulls the fabric cover off of the object on the desk with a flourish.

"...A globe?"

The little man smirks, but it is not an entirely cruel reaction. The blonde's response is so perfectly, well, _Emma_, in its long-suffering delivery it tickles him; never quite able to shake the odd sense of amusement the Sheriff instills in him. He can almost_ hear_ her carrying on with 'big whoop, it doesn't even have any countries on it' or something similarly inane, but imagines that Regina's close presence has the younger woman minding herself a little more than he is used to.

"What_ is_ that?"

"Why, dearie, young Emma just _told_ you! I-"

"-_Gold!_"

The brunette's rage is tangible and the Sheriff lets out a nervous hum as the lights flicker ominously, subconsciously shrinking a little closer to the Mayor as she regards the heavy chandelier above them with wide eyes.

"... It's a globe, as Miss Swan so rightly pointed out-"

"-I'm warning you-"

"-But it is a _special_ globe... Its use is not to tell of lands to be explored, but to_ find_ what has been lost to the one who uses it..."

"...Kind of just looks like a weird, white ball if you ask me..."

"... You are able to put up with this, Your Majesty?"

Gold looks up to the Mayor with a raised eyebrow, smirking as the Sheriff glares at him irritably. Waving her hand lazily in a bid the pawnbroker continue, Regina serves him a severe warning glance.

"It is only white, Miss Swan, due to the fact that it has not been told for whom, or what, to search for... Without such information, how would such an object even know what_ land_ to display?"

"Uh..."

Emma glances uncertainly over to the brunette- as though looking for a hint as to how to answer- but the Mayor simply continues to keep her critical gaze trained on Gold, whose disdainful look softens slightly as the Sheriff continues to struggle for an answer she has no way of knowing.

"What I want from you is simple, dearie... And I believe Mayor Mills may have some clue as to what it might be as well, for am I not correct in thinking you studied Henry's book during Emma's absence, Regina?"

"How did you-"

"How did I know? Simple... And rather boring, I'm afraid... Through no use of magic, of course, but simple logic. You wanted Miss Swan back and you knew I was at fault in her disappearance... knowing _who_ I am... You would have been foolish to ignore what you have been trying to hard to hide..."

"... You created the curse for _yourself_... To find your son... Correct?"

"Hmm... Mostly, yes. I will not pretend that it was not a largely selfish endeavor, but I _did_ give you what you wanted, and let's not forget that."

"You coerced me into wanting it-"

"-I did no such thing! My dear, I realize it must be rather awkward to find yourself in a relationship in which you have attempted to murder your girlfriend's mother on numerous occasions, but trust me, I'm just as surprised at your choice in partner as you are."

Regina snarls at the little man furiously, although, somewhere in the back of her mind she cringes as she suspects the part of Gold's statement the woman beside her is going to have most issue with is the term 'girlfriend'. To her surprise, Emma proceeds to clear her throat pointedly and address the pawnbroker impatiently.

"Well, I don't know what you want_ me_ to do about whatever was in that book... It says you let your son get sucked into some fucking whirlpool in the ground... What am_ I_ supposed to do?"

"True, Bae was... 'sucked into another world', if that's how you want to word it... _This_ world. A land without magic."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because this is the _only_ land of the sort."

"Okay... Still don't get where _I_ come into all this..."

"_You're_ going to find him."

"Wait, what? How the hell am I supposed to do that?! How would_ I_ know where your kid's gone better than you do?"

Raising an eyebrow and glancing pointedly towards to empty globe resting on the table, Gold smirks as green eyes roll irritably.

"You have already paid a small part of your debt to me without even realizing it, Miss Swan... With the curse broken, and magic available once more, the use of the globe is once more possible... Watch."

Lifting his finger and placing it at the very tip of the globe's axis, he maintains eye contact with the younger woman as he presses down; piercing the fleshy pad almost down to the bone before withdrawing his hand slowly, blood beading lazily at the whorls of his fingertip. Hovering his hand over the sphere's surface, the three of them watch as a single drop of blood falls gracefully to mar pure white.

"You couldn't have done that before...?"

But the blonde stills as her eyes widen, watching as the spilt blood seems to ebb and flow until, little by little, the globe holds a recognizable shape.

"Shit..."

Turning to the Queen, Emma regards her with naked shock, as though questioning whether the brunette sees such sorcery also; still unable to quite get a handle on the absurdity of it all. Offering the blonde a small nod, Regina frowns as she notes a peculiar speck of movement on the otherwise static map.

"Where's that?"

"...New York..."

The Sheriff mutters, accosted by the peculiar knowledge that her companions have little clue as to what lies outside of Storybrooke. She suddenly understands why Gold requires her cooperation.

"... Gold... It's a big city... _The_ big city... I don't... I don't know how you imagine I'd find some guy out of the millions of others..."

"I was under the impression that finding people is what you _do_, Miss Swan."

"Well sure... Like... Marks... Guys I get briefed on... No offence, but the kid was- well- a_ kid_ when you lost him, so you won't know all that much about who he'd be _now_... Kind of hard to track someone you know nothing about..."

"Then I suggest you get started as soon as possible, dearie... You will find my son... You must."

"Gold, I-"

"-Enough. There is no need for argument, Emma; a deal is a deal. You will do this for me, and that's the end of it... We leave tonight."

"Wait, you're going too!?"

The brunette interjects fiercely, her eyes dark and her teeth exposed.

"Well, I wouldn't send the girl off into the sunset alone, Regina. While I know nothing of this New York, I imagine having Miss Swan traipse the streets all by herself is hardly the most sensible of options. I will-"

"-Then I'm going with her."

"... You?"

"Regina..."

"Yes, me, and don't 'Regina' me, Emma, out of Gold and I, I currently hold the track record for the person who hasn't kidnapped you and caused you severe injury... I'm coming with you."

"But... What about Henry? We can't bring the _kid_... We have no idea what we're getting into..."

"... Well... Of the two of you, it is yourself that is bound to get herself into trouble.. Storybrooke is _safe_... Sydney will be able to-"

"-No. Not Sydney... Mary Margaret-"

"-Absolutely not-"

"Yes. Or I go alone."

"... You're not going alone."

"Then it's settled."

Dark eyes regard green with a scowl and the Pawnbroker smirks to himself, wondering if the two women have any idea how absurd their little argument is to any excluded from their own little world.

The Evil Queen. The Savior.

Odd.

But there is a certain poetry to it.

This may well be a blessing in disguise.


	83. Chapter 83

**A/N: **_Just a fairly short one. A few of you had mentioned you wanted to see something along these lines, or that you found it odd that this hasn't been further explored, and I just wanted to take this time to explain something. As expressed early on in this fic, I had imagined it would only be a few chapters long. None of this has ever been planned, I just tend to sit and write a chapter whenever I feel like it and see how it goes. Because of this, there are probably some aspects that need to be explained that I forget, or bits and pieces that work better than others. If there is anything that really doesn't sit right with you, please let me know and I will try and sort it out. _

_I realise that this fic has gone on for quite some time, and I get that some of you may have grown tired of it. I will keep writing this so long as there are still requests for further chapters as I don't so much have an 'end game' in mind due to just enjoying exploring the characters, but in regards to a few recent reviews, yes I know this is kind of all over the place and may drag sometimes... I just thank you to those of you that read, and can only hope you enjoy!... Sorry for the long note. Just felt it needed to be said. :)_

* * *

There is little more to be said between the three of them as the women rise from their stools and head towards the door. Gold imagines that there will be _plenty_ the Sheriff and the Mayor will go home to discuss, but he himself cares about one thing only; Bae.

And the Swan girl will stand up to her part of the bargain and find him... He will accept nothing less.

Raising an eyebrow when the brunette slows as they reach the dusty curtain shrouding the door, he cocks his head to the side as he watches her touch the blonde's elbow briefly, her words low but perfectly audible.

"Go wait in the car, I'll only be a minute."

"...Why?"

_Wary. Curious. Childlike._

"Because I asked you to."

_Oh, well I'm sure _that_ will go down well, given Emma's ever obedient temprement-_

"And_ I_ asked you why..."

_Can't argue with that, dearie..._

But the Sheriff's stubborn expression- the one which serves to make her look both older and curiously infantile as it conjures up the 'I want' lines at her brow- falters after only a moment, and Emma surprises him as she simply sighs defeatedly and shrugs, grumbling something unintelligible as she stalks from the room.

Smirking to himself, Gold runs his finger pensively over the curved surface of the globe as he regards the Mayor's dark tresses.

"Well, I say, there really _must_ be something, hmm, magical between you two, dearie! You have tamed the-"

But his words are brutally reduced to a pained croak as withered shoulder blades collide with the heavy cabinet behind him and an unseen force presses ruthlessly at his throat; crushing his vocal chords mercilessly.

The little man's eyes glitter in the darkness- so reminiscent of a beast's caught in a trap- as the sharp tap of expensive stilettos sounds dangerously across old wooden boards, and red lips form a familiar snarl before him.

"Another word and I'll take your tongue... Don't try me..."

Weathered skin flushes an angry scarlet, but the brunette growls menacingly as she momentarily increases the force emanating out to the little man; Gold's eyes bugging sickly from sunken sockets.

"Oh yes, you're the Dark One, I know, and I am nothing but your student... But that was then, Rumple... That was then and this is now... And _now_... You will listen to me. You will listen to me or I will personally see to it that you never lay eyes on that poor, misguided wretch of yours again... Understood?"

Dark anger in blackened eyes, but the pawnbroker gives a slight nod and the Queen continues, moving in ever closer. A vixen, a huntress; alluring, if not ready to go in for the kill.

"The_ only_ reason you're not writhing on the floor in agony this very second is because that young woman who just left would think ill of me for committing such an act... An act of_ justice_, nonetheless!... Do you know how_ hard_ it is to comply with such a will, when you have every reason to disobey?... Of course you don't... You are alone. Selfish. You abandoned your boy like a coward, a lowlife, and your darkness is all-consuming... You couldn't understand... But, while I will do as Emma wishes of me... Know this; if it were up to _me_, you would be barred away to rot, tortured, left to suffer... What you did to her, Rumple... The way I found her... You best thank whatever dark and twisted faith you adhere to that she has her mother's weakness for compassion... If it were up to _me_... I would have you watch as I forced your boy to endure the suffering you allowed that young woman to go through-"

"-It was never my intention-"

"-I don't care... I don't... Care... _Emma_ might. _I_ don't. You_ hurt_ her... And that is _all_ I care about. You took her, and you strung her up... You may not have intended for such injuries as those obtained to her wrists, but you were careless with her... And that... I cannot allow to go unpunished."

"But if you are to honour your word to Miss Swan, punishment is not an option..."

Gold's words are hoarse, and he massages his throat as he speaks, but he doesn't goad the brunette, he merely offers her a polite statement.

A statement which causes the Queen to smile coldly.

"Emma's wish to help you, while unwise, is very simple... You and I, of all people, should know that there is no such black and white definition as 'good and evil'. But there_ is_ such a thing as being 'fair', and, despite her many flaws and shortcomings... If there is one thing Miss Swan is... It's fair. She believes you deserve aid rather than punishment as she is clinging on to the misguided belief- _hope_ even- that there is some _good_ in you.

She forgave me... To put it that way cheapens the notion in a way I find distasteful, but it is the simplest way of wording it... She forgave me, and she wishes to forgive_ you_... To trust_ you_... She refuses to label you as 'bad'... I find such a choice to be foolish, but I am also in a bind, as I am in no position to argue.

I will honour her wish to aid you... To allow you a chance to prove us all wrong as to your nature... But for_ hurting_ her-"

The pawnbroker cries out as a sharp, white agony shoots up his arms; his wrists feeling as though they are on fire. Thin streams of blood spill from curious lacerations in papery skin, soaking into the expensive silk of his shirt.

"- I made no such promise to forgive..."

A haze of purple and the quickening flow of crimson stills instantly, plush fabric stained maroon, but weathered flesh seemingly unmarked. Letting out a low groan of lingering pain, Gold slumps slightly as he leans against the old, ornate cabinet, regarding Regina through untrusting eyes.

"Feel _better_, dearie?"

The bitterness to his tone does little to mask the uncharacteristic discomfort lacing his words... Dark One of not... In this new world things are different, and there is an odd question of hierarchy between himself and the Queen which he is cautious to test while the stakes are stacked so painfully high.

"A little... But I didn't stay behind to watch you bleed, Gold, much as I might like to. I stayed to warn you... So you best listen... You best listen because just as you took something from _me_,_ I_ once took something from _you_... And I promise that you will want this 'treasure' back... And you will want it back in better condition than I found mine... I don't _owe_ you such a courtesy of course... But Miss Swan's peculiar way of seeing things has left me questioning certain methods and practices... So I will refrain from stooping to such despicable forms of retribution and leave your treasure untainted... But I will tell you this: You so much as _touch_ Emma again... I will destroy it in front of your very eyes..."

"I-"

"- You put her in any form of danger... You allow her to be put into a position where she feels threatened, where she is even _remotely_ unhappy... I will make you pay for it. Understand?"

"... You have something of mine?"

"Yes. And until this little nightmare is over and you have released Emma from her duty of following through with your deal... It will remain mine and mine alone... I suggest you refrain from testing me."

* * *

"...Everything okay?"

Emma's tone is light and carefully neutral, but the brunette doesn't miss the crazed mess of her curls- a nervous habit of pulling slim fingers restlessly through her long hair- or the tick at her jaw. Nor does she miss the way green eyes had roamed over her briefly as she had ducked into the warmth of the younger woman's bug.

She tries to tell herself that the Sheriff had in no way been looking for signs of violence.

For blood.

"Fine, dear."

"That's good..."

Curt, almost clinical, and the blonde starts the car and puts it into drive. Sighing, Regina flicks the switch on the stereo, allowing the hateful hollering of the younger woman's music to fill the silence. After a while, Emma turns to her, her expression kinder as they roll towards the Mayor's mansion.

"...How come you stayed? What happened? Why couldn't I-"

"-You and your questions!... Nothing happened, Emma... I just... I wanted to make a few things clear to Gold... About you."

"... Oh..."

"And about how if he so much as_ looks_ at you the wrong way... I will make it my duty to have him regret it."

"... Regina... I don't need-"

"-It's not about what_ you_ need, dear... It's me. _I_ needed to do it."

"... Oh...Umm... Okay"

"Quite... And I _do_ hope you plan to be a little more eloquent if I'm going to be stuck in a car with you for the next few days."

The blonde scowls at her, before breaking into a grin; the tension between them disappearing easily.

"Ah, well lucky for you I know plenty of car games."

"... Oh god."


	84. Chapter 84

**A/N: **_Enjoy! :) _

* * *

As Emma pulls up into the looming shadow of the Mayor's mansion, she turns to the brunette with a frown as the darker woman negates to slip from the slightly sticky discomfort of her bug; the day unseasonably warm and the air-con busted.

"Uh..."

"You aren't coming in?"

"I can ... Won't Sydney-"

"-Never mind about Sydney, the man's a mess. Besides, I suppose I better run the fact that he'll be in charge of Henry by-"

"-Hey, _woah_, wait! I thought I told you the kid was going to stay with Mary Margaret while we were away?!"

"My dear, you tell me all_ sorts_ of things to which I pay little attention."

"Regina! that wasn't the deal! I thought we agreed? I made it clear that you weren't coming with me unless Henry stays with my... Mom."

Rolling her eyes at the blonde's childlike griping, the Mayor turns in her seat to regard the younger woman loftily.

"And just how do you suppose you would stop me from coming along, Sheriff?"

"I... Well, I guess I can't _physically_ stop you-"

A slight twitch to the side of the younger woman's mouth despite her irritation and the brunette sighs with ill-hidden amusement.

"- But it's pretty shitty of you to go back on your word like that..."

"I never once gave you my word; you told me that it was 'settled' and I failed to rectify you on the matter in front of Gold."

"Ugh, _Regina!_"

"Ugh_, Emma!_"

"...Seriously? You're going with mimicry?"

"Well, you make it so easy, dear..."

Chuckling as the blonde lets out a low groan of frustration, Regina growls when slim fingers flick at her thigh sharply.

"Why don't we just ask _Henry_ what he'd rather?"

"Because we both know what his answer will be."

"Exactly! See, it_ is_ settled!"

Rolling her eyes as the Sheriff kills the engine and jumps swiftly from the car, the brunette slips free from her side, regarding the blonde irritably over the obnoxiously yellow roof of the bug.

"This isn't over, Miss Swan..."

"Really? Sure _feels_ like it's over. We've stopped talking about it and I'm walking away."

Sighing as she glares moodily upon golden tresses tumbling frantically as the younger woman turns away with a smirk and jogs easily up the stone steps to the front door, Regina slams her car door shut and follows along with a sour expression. Pushing fussily past Emma to slide her key into the lock, her anger dissipates ever so slightly as a warm hand slips momentarily to her waist; the gesture amiable and reminiscent of the warm affection in which the blonde so often pretends to be lacking.

* * *

"Your Majesty... Miss Swan."

Regina frowns at the man who comes hurrying towards the door; not liking the drop in temperature evident in his tone as he regards the Sheriff.

_And not _altogether_ keen on the fact that I should feel so ridiculously protective over the woman. I doubt_ she_ even noticed._

"Sydney..."

The brunette goes on to usher them into the living room, watching pensively as the blonde veers off towards the sofa where Henry sits reading and flops down next to him grinning. Turning to reporter, she explains the basics of their current situation; informing the man that she and the Sheriff are to be taking leave of the town for a few days and that, while her son is to spend the respective time with the young schoolteacher, she is looking to him to keep an eye on things.

"You're leaving Henry with _her_? Regina-"

"-Your Majesty, Mr Glass... And yes. Apparently so."

Frowning in confusion as the brunette mutters these last words with an irritable glance towards the young woman sprawled out so inappropriately on her immaculate furniture, Sydney keeps his thoughts to himself. The Swan woman's current display of slobbish behaviour irks him, given the caliber of the company she is fortunate enough to be keeping, but he knows better than to raise an issue which Regina herself seems to be letting slide.

"Your Majesty..."

"That will be all for now, Sydney."

Shooing the reporter from the room and out into the hallway, Regina waits impatiently as he shuffles back into his spotless work shoes. She can make out the low drawl of the blonde as she chats to Henry, and from the occasional inquisitive quip voiced in return, she imagines Emma is explaining their imminent absence. She is once more struck with the curious notion that- despite her irritation at the blonde's insistence of leaving Henry in her mother's care- she is, well, _okay_ with Emma having taken it upon herself to talk to Henry. Bidding Sydney a curt farewell, she makes her way back into the living room and stands in the doorway, listening in on the Sheriff's conversation with the young boy thoughtfully.

* * *

"Were you planning to help at all?"

The brunette sniffs irritably, casting a bemused scowl over her shoulder at the Sheriff who lies lazily on the plush covers of her bed. The venom in her tone garners her little fear, however. In fact, on the contrary, the blonde proceeds simply to grin cattily as she continues to twist a strand of hair repeatedly around her index finger.

"You really want me going through your _stuff,_ Madame Mayor?"

"You don't have to _go through_ it, but you could at least move out of the way so that I can lay things out."

Casting her gaze coolly upon the vast expanse of mattress available to her side, Emma raises an eyebrow with a smirk as she watches the brunette continue to fuss with the multitude of garments spilling from her dresser. She decides to keep the fact that in doing so, Regina sways her linen-clad behind in a most pleasing manner to herself.

"Regina, we're going away for two days- three days tops- just chuck some extra underwear in your bag and be done with it."

Rising slowly to regard the blonde caustically through the looking glass resting on heavy mahogany, the Mayor rolls her eyes, speaking to the reflected Sheriff disdainfully.

"I have a slightly more refined sense of self-worth than yourself, dear..."

Struck with the memory of Emma's own admissions while lying in much the same position not so long ago, she frowns, deciding to follow up her comment as to the blonde's inner psyche with simple teasing in order to take the bite out of her words.

"I'm not what you would call a 'dirty girl', Sheriff."

Emma chuckles at this appreciatively, her tongue caught between her teeth as she watches Regina go back to work.

Well, as she watches Regina's ass as the darker woman goes back to work.

"Would that imply that you think I am, Madame Mayor?"

Rolling her eyes irritably- not a woman to take kindly to being repeatedly distracted from the task at hand- the brunette turns to face the younger woman once more, caught out by the husky quality to the Sheriff's query. Dark eyes flashing as she finds intense green, she recognises the twin spots of colour at high cheekbones and the mischievous pull to the blonde's soft lips easily and offers her own smirk as she stalks slowly towards the bed with the pretence of using its surface to lay out the sweater held in her hand.

"There's very little 'thinking' to it, Miss Swan."

"Oh?"

Breath catching as the younger woman pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and allows her hand to wander the flat planes of her stomach till slim fingers rest on rough denim, Regina clears her throat, trying to repress the grin threatening to grace her full lips.

"What _are_ you doing, dear?"

Airy. Arrogant. Bored.

"Hmm, I guess I'm initiating a little pants off dance off-"

The Mayor loses her battle with nonchalance, husky laughter rolling prettily off her tongue as she shakes her head and looks down at the Sheriff with a sigh.

"... Oh Miss Swan, your sexual advances continue to be so subtle and romantic..."

"If you wanted romance, Regina, you settled for the wrong person."

Emma chides, turning her attention back to the fingers working the stiff brass button of her jeans before raising blown green to meet humorous brown as delicate hands cover her own.

"Oh, I think I'll stick with what I have..."

Climbing easily onto the bed and straddling the swatch of lace exposed through parted denim, the brunette nips at the blonde's smirk bossily, pushing the younger woman hard against the headboard, soft pillows framing golden tresses like a halo.

"And don't call it 'settling'... That's not what it is."

Scarlet lips leave the Sheriff's and begin a hot trail down her throat, Emma reciprocating by slipping her hand wickedly to the clasp of crisp linen dress-pants and fiddling them open skilfully..

"Fine, you picked the wrong person to fall madly, head over heels in lust with-"

"-love with."

"No lust?"

The blonde's playful teasing is replaced by a low gasp as neat white teeth nip at her collarbone in reprimand. Turning her head to the side to allow better access as the Mayor continues her ministrations ever lower, she dips her fingers delicately into wet silk, the angle a little difficult to work with, but the hitch to the Mayor's breathing enough to have her continuing her exploration eagerly.

"We need to h-hurry up, dear... You still need to go home and p-pack..."

"It'll only take me five minutes."

"...How cocky of you..."

Laughing at Regina's teasing insinuation as to what she had been referring, Emma rolls them swiftly, baring down on the brunette with an evil smirk as she continues working her fingers beneath quickly dampening lingerie.

"To pack. _This_... Won't take nearly as long."

Opening her mouth to offer a disdainful quip in return, Regina lets out a choked cry as skilled fingers pick up a cruel pace and her vision becomes obstructed by a mess of cornsilk as the Sheriff trails her tongue swiftly down the slender column of her throat. Squirming in an attempt to both increase the pleasure offered by the blonde and escape so that she might at least remove her clothes, the Mayor eventually gives up in order to respond hotly as the younger woman's free hand finds her glossy locks and brushes them shakily back as she finds her lips with her own dominantly.

Tangling the fingers of her left hand into pale tresses to keep the Sheriff in her delectable position, Regina lets the right slip beneath flimsy cotton to find taut muscle before trailing up to find the pleasant weight of globed flesh encased in cheap lace. Growling in response, the blonde increases the force played out between tellingly quivering thighs, using her palm to brush maddeningly against the sweet spot where the Mayor needs it most.

Chuckling as the brunette's kiss becomes clumsy and laced with soft moans, Emma slows the delicious torture of her fingers, allowing painfully tense thighs to relax and panted breaths to become slightly more regular as Regina plays with tangled curls gently, deepening their kiss with slow passion as she pulls the younger woman to lie flush on top of her, her free hand playing soft patterns across the Sheriff's back.

"Told you..."

"Oh, hush."

Rolling off the brunette, Emma climbs from the bed and does her jeans back up, smirking at the irritable expression this action garners her.

"You were right, we need to get a move on if we want to sort things out with Mary Margaret. You'll just have to admire my lady parts later."

Rolling her eyes with a low breath of laughter, Regina sighs, fussing her hair back into subordination.

"Miss Swan, if you imagine we will performing a repeat of these activities in that woman's house, you are-"

"-Of course not!"

"But then-"

"Last I checked I had a car in which the seats can be put down."

"You want to do... To do _this_... In your car?!"

"Why not? You said it yourself... I'm a dirty girl."


	85. Chapter 85

**A/N: **_Could have left this chapter up to your imaginations... But I was feeling nice. :) Enjoy!_

* * *

"I don't like this..."

Glancing over at the brunette as she mutters these words for the fifth time, Emma sighs, deploying her indicator- despite the little light not having worked for at least a year- and pulling over into a small lay-by secluded by trees.

"Regina... Stop."

"I can't help it."

"Henry's gonna be fine... Come on, I know you're not thrilled about the idea, but if there's _anyone_ we can trust it's Mary Margaret. I mean... She's _Snow White_..."

"It's not a matter of whether we can _trust_ her and that oaf;_ trust_ has nothing to do with it! I just don't like this!"

"... I know... But Henry will have a much better time at mine then he will knocking about your great big mansion with Sydney."

Noting the venomous pull to the Mayor's lips, the blonde hastily explains herself.

"Mary Margaret's good with kids! And it's cosy!... She'll hang out with him is all I'm saying... Not... You know..."

"I still don't like it."

Rolling her eyes at the brunette's irritable muttering, the Sheriff sighs and stares vacantly out the window before adopting a sly smirk.

"Well... Maybe we should take your mind of it then..."

"Really, Miss Swan..."

The Queen rolls her own eyes at the saucy lilt to the younger woman's voice, before letting out a small gasp as the blonde leans over swiftly and steals a kiss. Refusing to give in to the urge to smile as her lips brush against Emma's, Regina mutters moodily.

"What on earth are you doing, dear?"

"Hmm... Okay... Kind of a blow to my ego that it's not obvious, but I guess I can lick my wounds...Or maybe you could..."

Emma quips huskily and the Mayor's eyes widen as she leans back to regard the Sheriff.

"... You _can't_ be serious."

"Actually, I'm surprisingly adept at it; see?"

Wiping the playful grin expertly from her face, the blonde regards the Queen with a stoic coolness so similar to that she had once used to retaliate against the Mayor's own icy exterior that the brunette takes in a nervous breath before shaking her head with a small smile.

"You're such an idiot."

"Duly noted."

Laughing as Spanish eyes roll, Emma unbuckles her safety-belt and clambers swiftly over to straddle the brunette's lap with minimal difficulty. Regina blinks, a little thrown by the peculiar grace with which the Sheriff has managed to accomplish what should have been a relatively tricky maneuver- _and this by the woman who can barely walk in a straight line to save her life_- before adopting an air of irritable disdain.

"My dear, please tell me you don't seriously believe I'm _actually_ about to condone rutting in your scrap-pile of a car."

"Well, I'm the Sheriff... If you don't condone it, who are you going to call on for help...?"

Opening her mouth to scold the blonde for such a crass notion, the Mayor lets out a low growl as the younger woman leans in and nips playfully at her throat; golden tresses tickling her nose maddeningly.

"Emma, _really_, dear..."

"What?"

The Sheriff inquires innocently, sitting back so as to regard the Queen with wide eyes. Regina's huffed response is cut short as the blonde makes a small rotation with her hips that completely contradicts the chaste smile at her lips. Giving the younger woman a measured look, the brunette offers her a reprimanding swat on the thigh before finding pert denim flesh with sharp nails and pulling her flush; tasting her deeply while her eyes flutter contently closed.

"_Ah! What the_-"

The brunette's panicked cry has the Sheriff laughing hysterically as she falls on top of the darker woman; the back of the seat protesting with a muffled thump as it collides with the rear seats roughly.

"Told you the seats went back!"

"Miss Swan, when something makes that kind of noise there is no _way_ it was designed to act in such a fashion! I felt something _break_!"

"Relax, I can fix it, I'm sure..."

The blonde mutters disinterestedly, her attention elsewhere as she goes back to trailing her tongue down the vulnerable column of the Mayor's throat. Chuckling lightly, Regina plays her hands through cornsilk curls before trailing her nails roughly down the Sheriff's spine; smirking as the younger woman shivers. Finding her jaw and pulling her back up, the Queen tastes soft lips slowly, her dark tresses fanning out on the tattered seat beneath her.

Muttering something that sounds a little like 'wait', Emma sits up and pulls her t-shirt swiftly over her head, tossing it absentmindedly onto the driver's seat before going to work on the small clasps to the Mayor's shirt. Humming with quiet appreciation as slim fingers slip beneath her exposed bra and the younger woman finds her lips once more, Regina speaks throatily between soft nips to delicate rose petals.

"You've done this before..."

She'd meant it as a joke- her comment predominantly serving to tease the Sheriff for her swiftness in removing her shirt- but Emma responds with a husky giggle; speaking before she has time to re-evaluate her words.

"Well, how do you think Henry was-"

Shutting up with an audible click of her teeth snapping together, the Sheriff cringes as Regina tenses rigidly beneath her. Hoping to brush past the painfully awkward moment, the blonde attacks perfect skin with new vigour- slipping her hand ever lower down the Mayor's flat stomach- but stern fingers find her chin and force her to look back up into dark eyes.

"...What was that?"

"... Nothing..."

"No, go on."

"I didn't mean... Can we just... Can we not-"

"No."

"Regina..."

"You mean to tell me my son was conceived in the back of a car? That Henry is the product of... Of a cheap, backseat _fuck_?"

It's the younger woman's turn to tense up, her expression suddenly hard as she replies coldly

"...Cheap?"

"You tell me..."

"Just what the fuck are you implying...?"

The anger in the Sheriff's tone causes her voice to crack slightly and the brunette sighs; the majority of her irritation leaving her. Keeping her hands clasped at the small of the younger woman's back, she speaks quietly, not quite offering Emma an apology, but requesting a truce with her tone.

"Nothing... 'Cheap' was a bad choice of word..."

"Yeah! It was!"

"But the rest..."

"Well what do you_ want_ me to tell you?! What, that I was seventeen and the kid was totally planned and it happened in some fucking meadow on a bed of daisies and that-"

"-Stop. Enough."

Regarding Emma levelly until the blonde relaxes slightly, Regina slides her hands in-between rough denim and soft flesh with a little difficulty, giving a small squeeze which has the blonde rolling her eyes with a huff.

"I just... I'd never thought on the matter before. I'm sorry if I offended you, it wasn't my intention."

"...Fine... "

Shrugging awkwardly in her current position- propped up on her elbows as her stomach remains flush with the Mayor's- the Sheriff sighs, casting her gaze down to a small catch in the darker woman's bra strap to avoid having to maintain such intense eye contact.

"You, uh, you really never thought about... the 'Him'?"

"The 'Him'?"

The Mayor repeats with a smirk despite the uncomfortable subject matter.

"You make it sound as though Henry's father was some sort of superhero... Or villain...?"

"Neither. He was just some guy..."

"... 'Just some guy'...Really?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."

Sighing at the irritating nonchalance the Sheriff has so conveniently adopted, Regina takes a second to weigh up whether the matter is worth pushing further before offering the blonde a slow smile as she squeezes firm flesh harder and tilts her head back to expose her throat invitingly; humming when the younger woman gives up on her moodiness and presses the flat of her tongue to a particularly sensitive spot.

Grinning into hot flesh when her attentions garner her a low whisper of 'oh god', Emma slips her hand deftly between them to play patterns over luxurious linen.

"I thought the whole point of this was that it was your turn..."

The Mayor admonishes breathlessly, as, despite her words, she lets her legs fall open just a little more beneath the Sheriff's pleasant weight.

"But you're just so much fun..."

Groaning as the blonde alternates these words with small tugs at the black lace of her bra with sharp, white teeth, Regina allows such sweet attention to continue for just a little longer before taking a firm hold of narrow hips and forcing the younger woman to sit back up.

"As are you."

Flipping them around isn't an option in the narrow space available, so she simply fumbles with rough denim- feeling entirely debauched as she notes the beginnings of condensation misting the windows of the car- and pulls the Sheriff's jeans briskly open. Taking heed of Regina's struggle, Emma lifts her hips ever so slightly to allow the brunette to pull her Levi's partially down her thighs, leaving just a small swatch of cotton between her sex and the Mayor's bare stomach.

"A little 'cute' for you, no?"

The brunette quips, hooking her finger into the thin strip of material that disappears between pert cheeks and allowing it to snap back smartly against pale flesh.

"Today was laundry day."

The blonde drawls with a smirk as she drinks in the way heavy lashes hood dark eyes as the Mayor remains fixated on the scant fabric which only just covers her.

"... Makes me wonder what you've packed to take with you..."

Offering the brunette a coy wink, Emma gives another small circle of her hips- her lip pulled salaciously between her teeth- before she breaks down into a low chuckle and pushes her long hair back with a smile.

"Actually, nothing all that exciting. I would apologise, but I'm not sure a trip with Gold in tow is the right moment to crack out my assortment of 'back up panties'... Depending on how things go, however... New York just happens to have a small shop or two..."

"I'm surprised you_ like_ shopping..."

"I don't."

"Then-"

"- But I don't usually have any reason to buy anything fun..."

"Oh? And Just what fun things would _we_ be shopping for then?"

"I'm sure we could find one or two items of interest..."

"Hmm... I think I've found something right now..."

The blonde gasps with feigned shock as manicured fingers pull down the flimsy cotton of her underwear. She allows Regina to guide her hips back ever so slightly so that she sits at an angle, granting the brunette easy access.

"...Thank you..."

"For what?"

"Taking my mind off of everything..."

"You're going to bring that up now?!"

"...Oh... How foolish of me... I suppose I'd better take _your_ mind off of it..."

"...Smooth, Regina-_A_!"

The Mayor chuckles maliciously as the Sheriff shrieks the last syllable of her name, curling her fingers expertly as she slides them easily into the blonde's slick entrance.

"Very."

Smirking as she teases the younger woman mercilessly, she allows Emma to lean in for a brief kiss before ordering her back up.

"No, stay that way; stay sitting up..."

"But I-"

"-Please."

Cheeks flushed as Regina continues with her delicious rhythm, the Sheriff simply nods obediently, resting back with her hands out behind her on the dashboard.

The brunette growls in appreciation, eyes locked on the younger woman's taut stomach, simple bra and flushed face as brilliant green clenches tightly shut and lips part to allow soft pants of pleasure.

"Look at me."

"Uh uh..."

Emma mumbles distractedly, her hips rocking in time with fast moving fingers.

"Emma..."

Obeying slowly, the Sheriff forces her eyes to half mast and regards the brunette darkly as her breathing becomes shallow and laced with small moans.

"Stay up..."

The blonde nods once more, though she's not sure whether or not she's going to manage such a task as her arms ache from bracing her at such an angle and her core flutters deliciously as skilled fingers play with her ruthlessly.

"Okay!"

Smirking at this breathy response, Regina drags her nails with measured cruelty down the sex-slick expanse of the younger woman's stomach and hones in on the blonde's most sensitive area.

"Fuck! Regina! Fuck!"

Watching with sordid intrigue as the Sheriff throws her head back- the enviable muscles of of her stomach twitching as her breath comes in rapid gasps- the Queen slows her ministrations and simply observes the blonde as she struggles to compose herself; her jaw a sharp line, and her throat long as she keeps her head back with her long hair ghosting her elbows.

Finally, when the Sheriff gets her breathing and heart rate back under control, she falls forward, brushing her lips against the brunette's as the darker woman tucks golden curls gently back behind her ears.

"You're magnificent..."

"I try..."

A rolling of beautifully dark eyes and the younger woman chuckles softly as she places her hand over the Queen's heart and deepens their kiss.

"As are you, Your Majesty..."

The title has the brunette shivering despite the salacious humidity of the car and she hugs the blonde to her tightly; trapping Emma's hand between her heart and her own.

"Whatever happens with Gold, with New York, with Baelfire... We face things together... Understood?"

She suspects Emma may respond to such a dramatic request with sarcasm or embarrassed stuttering, but the blonde surprises her; placing a delicate kiss on full lips before she whispers

"Always."


	86. Chapter 86

**A/N: **_I solemnly swear there will be plot in the next chapter... But these bits are too fun not to do._

* * *

"Will you stop that?!"

Regina hisses as she catches Emma plucking at her tank top out of the corner of her eye.

"I can't help it! I'm burning up!"

Offering the blonde an irritable sigh so as to hide the malicious smirk threatening to alight her lips, the Mayor simply mutters that such things are simply 'too bad'. Despite her light scolding, she hangs back a little to allow herself a better view of the Sheriff's predicament; thin cotton plastered to hot flesh still slightly slick from sex.

"Seriously, we can't stop by yours for a quick shower?"

"We're already late."

"Then what's the harm?"

"Need I remind you-"

"-That it's Gold we're dealing with... Yeah, yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I don't feel gross."

"And whose fault might that be, Miss Swan?"

"Oh, please, like you weren't right behind me on that little escapade!"

"Actually, I believe I was positioned underneath you..."

The blonde chuckles wickedly at this and the brunette muses that she might as well- for all intents and purposes- be dating a teenage boy.

_Dating... Dating... Dating? There's that word again... _

She mulls the term over in her mind as she follows Emma silently down the sun drenched sidewalk towards Gold's estate. It doesn't fill her with the sense of disquiet or denial as it once might have, but she finds that rather than discomfort she feels a small sense of regret.

She can't help but wish life could be so simple as the term might suggest.

Then again, much as she might like to partake in the more traditional wining and dining of courtship, her lips lilt into a bemused little smile as she imagines just what Emma might have to say about _that_!

Catching up swiftly with light taps of stiletto heels on cement, she toys with a loose golden curl gently, her heart feeling suddenly very full when the Sheriff sashays towards her so that they walk almost hip to hip, rather than ducking away with the growl she had been expecting.

"How_ does_ your hair get in such a state, dear?"

"Hmm, I wonder..."

"You were sitting!_ I'm_ the one who was lying back!"

"I know; I thoroughly enjoyed the view,_ dear_."

Regina smirks, Emma's adoption of a rich tone to mimic her own simply serving to make the younger woman sound as though she is suffering from a bad cold and laughable to say the least.

She strives to keep her mind from stumbling towards the unhappy realisation that the past few days have been perhaps some of the best with which she has been graced, while, yet again, everything now stands in jeopardy.

She wonders if Emma is suffering from any similar uneasy thoughts but is unable to say.

The blonde can be hard to read, and when it comes to the subject of Rumplestiltskin, the Mayor would bet a great deal on the Sheriff being nowhere near as blasé as she comes across, but the topic has so far only served to irk her when discussed with the woman who pads causally along beside her. She knows Emma well enough to be sure that Gold's treatment of her back in that crude little apartment will be weighing heavily on her mind; the Sheriff- while seemingly surprisingly adept at being able to forgive and forget- undeniably proud nonetheless.

The younger woman had been forced into a position of intense fear, and this- maybe more so than the markings to her wrists- has the Queen wondering if Emma doesn't in fact present herself more as a ticking time bomb in regards to the little imp, than the cool, laid-back role she is acting out.

"So I've been wondering..."

"Hmm?"

"Where is everyone?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, like, the curse broke... There's magic... Apart from the night I came to yours to check on you, there's been no trouble... No offence or anything, but I just kind of reckoned on people having it in for you and coming after you...I mean... You're the Evil Queen, right?"

"Ah, and that would make you the rebellious damsel I suppose? The lost princess who would be pleading for them to have it within their hearts to _forgive_!"

The brunette's words are delivered in a rich, theatrical tone, and Emma rolls her eyes as she jabs the darker woman lightly in the ribs with her elbow.

"Hardly... I'm more like your knight."

"You're my what?"

"Your knight."

"As in... My knight in shining armour?"

"Well, yeah!"

"...Honestly, dear, were you graced with _any_ sense of femininity at all?"

Turning to regard the darker woman with a coy smirk, the blonde runs a hand through her hair and offers a flash of teeth as her eyes drop pointedly down to her chest, causing the Mayor to sigh and roll her eyes with ill-hidden amusement.

"You tell me..."

"...A mere physicality, but I suppose you'll do."

"Gee,_ thanks_!"

Smiling, Regina continues in a more serious tone, her eyes flickering to the looming pink of Gold's estate up ahead.

"I was of a similar opinion at first in regards to the patrons of Storybrooke, I must say. I believe the noticeable lack of activity out on the streets since the breaking of the curse is probably down to wariness, not just of myself, but of the change as a whole. Whilst I brought over all those with whom I had had a connection in the past, you must understand that many of the people who interacted day in, day out as their cursed selves have no knowledge of each other in respects to their previous lives in the Enchanted Forest. Some, such as the blue fairy, Rumplestiltskin, Snow and Charming possess a noteriety which mean they are less of a mystery, even if they never made contact with some of the others brought over, but for most, they are strangers. A cause for caution at the best of times... But when you add magic into the mix... I would say that for most it simply seems wise to lie low until they have had the chance to sniff around as it were."

"I guess that makes sense... Less chance of getting zapped while doing the weekly shop..."

"Well... There are very few here capable of 'zapping' as you call it, but the theory stands, yes. I would also presume my association with yourself has kept those with a greater thirst for blood than sense at bay."

"Your association with _me_? You think people _know_?!"

"No, dear... And while I am_ deeply_ flattered by the horror so painfully evident in every aspect of your being right now-"

"-Sorry, it's just-"

"- I merely meant that while you remain on my side and Snow on yours... The royals have yet to launch their attack, and so their people have yet to rally for battle."

"Attack?! Mary Margaret would never-"

"- Oh, that wet blanket would struggle to stamp out the life of a malaria ridden mosquito. Snow... Well, you've read Henry's book... She won't cross_ you_ though, and, knowing what she knows, this means I remain 'safe'... Unless I fall into a lover's tiff with her little princess..."

"Call me that again, and it might just happen..."

It is a low growl, dripping with warning, but Regina pays it no mind save for surpressing the usual small shiver the blonde's voice pulls from her when lowered huskily in such a way.

"Perhaps whilst in New York we should look into getting you a tiara-"

"- You want me to hit you?"

"No, and I would hope you would possess the good sense not to come to blows with one so powerful as myself."

"... You want a shelf for that ego, Regina? Maybe a nice glass-fronted cabinet to put in your office?"

"Oh hush, you."

The brunette purses her lips as the Sheriff grins cattily, the two of them casting elongated shadows across the pavement; merging together every now and then when one steps a little in front of the other.

"I'll tell you what, though, I've kind of spent the last couple of days wondering if Gold was going to magically appear... Especially when we were... uh..."

Emma laughs sheepishly, but it does little to hide the note of fear just audible on her tongue, and the Queen decides the younger woman has indeed been pondering the events of her capture. Aware that inquiring as to the blonde's wellbeing is a sure way to get snapped at even at the best of times, Regina negates to focus on the source of the slight tremble to the Sheriff's otherwise dry tone, opting instead to answer in a neutral manner.

"... The man is a snake, Emma, but to do so would serve him no purpose-"

"-Oh, _sure_, apart from-"

"-Much as I'm sure it would be a magnificent display- I certainly enjoy the half I get to watch- Gold wants _one_ thing from you, dear... Oh, I'm sure he might_ like_ all sorts of things... But he _wants_ you to aid him- he _needs_ you to aid him- and the man is a good enough judge of character to know that you will do so of your own accord. To mess with you could prove detrimental to his cause... I'm sure you would find Gold lurking in the shadows should you decide to run from this deal you made with him, but, so long as you continue with the intention to do your part, I imagine he'll leave you be... He would do _well_ to, anyway."

Emma opens her mouth to taunt the darker woman for the murderous quality she injects into her final words, but finds herself simply licking her lips nervously and keeping her silence.

Whatever threat lies within Regina's low warning is almost tactile in its reality.

In its sincerity.

"Well... I guess there's no turning back now, anyway."

The blonde confides, almost in a whisper, and the brunette glances at her quickly before looking back at the grand front door outside which they now find themselves.

"No, I suppose not. Do you want to do the honours, dear?"


	87. Chapter 87

**A/N: **_Sort of part one of two; hopefully will have the second section uploaded tomorrow, but felt bad for leaving this fic unattended. Because of this, this is more of a reflective chapter, and I will say now that both of my longer fics are currently undergoing some tying up of loose ends, so I apologise for lack of sex and action (and sexy action!) So, for the more depraved of you wanting some SQ sexing, I uploaded a two-shot '**Paint'** to keep the fun stuff going._

_About this chapter: I have not included the storyline of memory loss or loss of magic upon crossing the town line as I feel Belle is in some ways integral to this, and I don't plan on including BelleXGold yet, if ever. _

_Phew! That's it from me! Enjoy, and please review :)_

* * *

The tension that shrouds Gold's car is tangible, and he imagines one could slice through it with a knife. His knuckles are blanched a stark white as he grips the steering wheel too tight; not one to be thrown by a little discomfort, but his emotions balance dangerously on the wire as he thinks about the task ahead.

The Queen sits beside him with her back rigidly straight, and, like the blonde, she has said nothing since slipping into the plush warmth of the Lincoln.

When the women had arrived at his estate, there had been little conversation; Regina greeting him with a frown, and the Sheriff showcasing a peculiar confused expression he had been unsure whether to find maddening or curiously endearing.

Not that it mattered.

A brief swap of forced pleasantries and they had filed off towards his car waiting patiently in the driveway.

Words had exchanged briefly between Emma and the brunette; the blonde asking Regina if she had a preference as to where she was to sit, and the Queen informing her sternly that the younger woman was to sit in the back, 'away from _him_'. Predictably, such strict reprimand had garnered a scowl from the Sheriff- Emma huffing irritably as she slid into the seat behind Gold's- but the pawnbroker is unable to say whether such frustration had been the result of the wilful young woman being told what to do, or if it had been the result of being told what to do in front of an audience.

_For the two of them not to have clawed each others' eyes out as of yet, one of them has to be willing to take things as they come occasionally... And that's unlikely to be Regina._

They have been sitting- or _festering_ is perhaps a better word- in uncomfortable silence for not much longer than half an hour, but already this feels as if it may be one of the longest excursions on which he's ever embarked. He is anxious to get to New York and make progress on this want that has been left unsated for so long, but he is wary of the need to tread carefully. It is not to his liking at all that the brunette has invited herself along, and he is apprehensive that the Queen may complicate matters. _How_, he doesn't quite know yet, but it would have been preferable to travel with Emma alone.

Still, as much as it vexes him, he is unsurprised by the way things have turned out.

_Never meant things to go the way they did...Never intentionally hurt the girl... Just as the Queen found it in herself to change, the Dark One is perhaps no longer such a fitting name... Time and loss changes things._

This internal drivel has the little man letting out an irritable sigh through his crooked nose. He will leave such soul searching to Her Majesty- who at least is getting a little something out of it- and quit before he fools himself into believing he is as subjectable to grief and guilt as the brunette.

He simply hadn't planned on the Sheriff ending up in the appalling state she had, and that's all there is too it.

...All there is to it, but he'd had a hard time, however, not allowing his dark gaze to fall repeatedly on skinny wrists back in the sun drenched valley of his driveway.

White lines- bracelets- circling the Savior's pale flesh like strange and ancient markings.

Glancing up into the rear-view mirror, he studies the blonde curiously, the younger woman staring pensively out the window at the passing scenery; the never-ending battalion of Maine forest trees causing her eyes to flicker restlessly.

Hypnotically.

So much so that he is thrown when cool green suddenly flashes up to find his own dark coals.

The Sheriff's expression doesn't change, and he is unsure just what emotion lies behind thick lashes; willing to admit that his occasional difficulty to read Emma with the same ease he reads others makes him a little on edge around the woman.

_Only the Queen offers the same conundrum. _

Waiting for the blonde to lower her steely gaze as he stares her down through the glass, Gold takes in a silent breath as the mirror goes suddenly dark with a shimmer of violet and he returns his eyes to the road... But not before sneaking a glance at the brunette whose lip twitches with other-wise well hidden anger.

He is willing to bet the Queen's magic goes undetected by the Sheriff.

And he's right.

Regina casts her cloaking charm over the mirror with copper-mouthed distaste. She is aware somewhere in the back of her mind that the blonde would find her current internal struggle ludicrous, but is unable to help herself. She doesn't _want_ Gold looking at her. _Studying_ her. Not when she can't be sure of his intentions.

Over protective? She's sure Emma would be the first to say so... But the younger woman did not come by the scars to her wrists blamelessly.

She is pulled from her thoughts by a loud sigh of theatrical boredom from the back of the car.

_I'm almost surprised she hasn't resorted to kicking the back of his seat..._

"Can I help you, dear?"

A raised eyebrow and disdainful tone. It is not something they have discussed, but, underlying feelings aside, the two women have slipped easily back into their old ways in some respects as they reside within Gold's company; something about which all three of them are silently relieved.

"I still don't get why we're _driving_ all the way to New York."

"... What would you propose? That we simply show up in Manhattan in a puff of smoke?"

"...I guess I can't even tell you not to be ridiculous...But I _meant_ more as in why drive when we could fly?"

"I may have less of an understanding on such matters than yourself, but I can't imagine we'd get very far with the three of us banding together under your one passport?"

"You guys have _magic_! You can't create a couple of_ forms of ID_?"

The blonde huffs, crossing her arms in a teenage fashion which has the brunette rolling her eyes; recognising the Sheriff's pissy attitude to be the one she had once so frequently resorted to when feeling in over her head.

Gold speaks up in a neutral tone, all too aware that interjecting the conversation between the two is unlikely to go down well with the Mayor.

"... We could, Miss Swan... But for the sake of an extra six hours travel, it didn't seem worth the risk."

Regina turns in her seat to shoot Emma a look as she catches the younger woman muttering something about Jedi mind-tricks sullenly beneath her breath; not recognising the term, but recognising the symptoms of the blonde's sudden descent into childish moodiness as though she were faced with Henry rather than the town's functioning Sheriff.

"Pull over at the next road stop, we'll get some coffee and food for the car."

Despite Gold's presence as she directs her request- order- towards the little man, she offers Emma just the smallest hint of a smirk which she is almost sure she receives in kind as green eyes glitter momentarily up at her.

_There's no way the girl's stomach is the sole culprit of her mood, but when one knows a sure way to subdue the beast... _


	88. Chapter 88

**A/N: **_Apologies for the confusion in the previous chapter. I'd had Regina refer to the need for a passport to travel from Maine to NY as she would have only a gracing knowledge of the technicalities of travel outside of Storybrooke. After some insight from you guys, I changed Emma's phrasing to them needing 'forms of ID' in hopes to kind of have this be more believable, but, not having been home in a lot time, it is something I completely overlooked, so thanks for the heads up._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review! :)_

* * *

Regina regards Gold venomously as the little man's attention returns yet again to the counter of the small rest stop at which they have eventually decided to eat lunch. All too aware of her murderous scowl, he addresses her casually, but his eyes remain transfixed on the far corner.

"If looks could kill, Regina... I assure you, it is not Miss Swan whom I have my eye on, but rather what the good Sheriff deems a suitable choice of sandwich."

He smirks as he speaks, but in reality, he spares very little interest in the blonde who stands with her hips cocked against the counter. It had been by silent agreement that Emma is the one to have trotted off to place an order for the three of them, and he can't help but feel the beginnings of trepidation as he looks around the unflatteringly lit greasy cafe and understands this is neither his domain nor the Queen's. Dark eyes falling on foreign branding and unfamiliar faces, his attention returns again and again to two men arguing heatedly behind the counter- subsequently ignoring the blonde in a fashion he considers highly rude, but by which she doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest- over the happenings between their opposing 'teams' the previous evening. He knows enough of this land they've called home for the past twenty-eight years to understand the men refer to sports teams, but the pent up aggression over such trivial matters and their crass language- especially in front of a young woman- is not something he is able to find peace with easily.

_That's what she's here for; why you brought her along in the first place. She knows how things work here._

Sighing as the brunette clears her throat pointedly, he finally casts his full attention back to her with a sigh.

"She won't thank you for playing her bodyguard. She doesn't need one."

"Who are_ you_ to say what she does and doesn't want or need?"

"An observer, dearie... But more than that; the recipient of a rather spectacular headbutt from a horrifically injured young woman... The Sheriff can hold her own, and she's _proud_ of that fact, that much is obvious. I, however, neither meant her harm, nor mean her any now. She means one thing to me, Regina; a means to getting my son back."

"You're suggesting I should have sat back and let you whisk her off to New York... After _everything_..."

"It would have been preferable, yes... But I am unsurprised by this turn of events given how things stand between the two of you."

"Our relationship is none of your business-"

"-Nor do I wish to make it so. But as you are here with us- and so clearly opposed to me having the slightest thing to do with her- I merely hasten to remind you that Miss Swan is simply making good on her part of our deal... Allow her the space to do so and this whole situation stands to be fairly painless for all those involved..."

"I'm supposed to believe that once Emma tracks down your boy we'll never hear from you again?"

"... If neither of you make arrangements with myself, then I don't see why I would seek you out. _You_ have unwittingly played _your_ part to aid me in my interests, have you not?"

"How dare-"

"- Once Emma does the same, I have no use, nor interest in either of you."

"...You'll have to forgive me for finding such a promise hard to believe-"

The brunette's disdainful retort tapers off into a displeased hiss as the Sheriff comes strolling back to their dingy booth with three plates and packets of chips balanced expertly in her hands.

"You would be well suited as a waitress, Miss Swan; most impressive."

Emma rolls her eyes at the pawnbroker's words as she slides onto the vinyl upholstered bench next to the brunette, reaching across the darker woman to pluck up a decidedly murky looking jug of water and paper cup. The Queen, however, adopts a thunderous expression; the term a new one to her until arriving to Storybrooke all those years ago. She had intended the curse to transport its victims into a position befitting their stature and person in their previous lives, and she has since believed a better role for Red would have been hard to find. To have it suggested that the blonde would be of a similar caliber infuriates her; conveniently choosing to overlook the months spent following the younger woman's arrival when she would have thought much the same. The Sheriff quells such disgruntled thoughts when she merely shakes her head, sipping at her water.

"Been there, done that."

The Mayor raises her eyebrow in surprise, but she supposes that apart from Emma's talk of her previous position as a bail-bondsman and her vague, yet rather distressing mention of what the brunette has translated within her own knowledge to 'tavern work', she knows very little as to the Sheriff's previous employment.

Of her former life in general.

"Your choice of lunch is _less_ inspiring."

Gold plucks at processed white bread and plastic yellow cheese with distaste, deciding that at least the ham looks vaguely edible.

"I _told_ you to pull over two stops back; there was a McDonalds and a Starbucks. This is what you get when you stop at a roadside diner."

She shrugs, before taking in the small frown Regina adopts at this statement and clarifying with forced patience; finding the way the others are reacting to the outside world most disconcerting. She had told herself to expect it... But it still feels like she's stuck in some awful B movie rerun on the sci-fi channel.

"Diner's aren't generally like Granny's... They're more... Well, see for yourselves."

"It's _ghastly_."

The Sheriff chuckles wickedly as she takes a generous bite from her sandwich; amused at the regal note within the brunette's voice.

"It's_ reality_."

"Yes, well... Your obnoxious, sour tendencies are starting to make a little more sense."

The blonde rolls her eyes, and Gold observes with genuine curiosity the way such an admonishment from the Mayor has the Sheriff fighting off a smirk rather than chewing the other woman out for her insult as he would naturally expect.

Returning his attention to the dismal offering on his plate, he proceeds to shake his head when the younger woman pushes herself from the table- having finished her own food with startling alacrity- and inquires after any requests from the small candy stand at the back of the cafe to take with them on the road. The brunette responds in kind, and he allows just the smallest hint of a smile as he catches Emma mutter something that sounds suspiciously like 'your loss' before she disappears in search of sugar.

"...I can only give you my word."

"Pardon me?"

"There is no physical way for me to prove that I will leave you and the Miss Swan be once Baelfire has been found, only my word. You will either accept it or you won't, Your Majesty, but it will do you no good fretting over the fact now."

"...And yet I shall continue to do so anyway."

"Then there is nothing more I can say."

"... You _know_ what she looked like when I found her! You _know_ what damage you caused!... And you _left_ her like that!_ I_ then have to sit and listen to the girl talk of things such as redemption and change! I had to_ sit_ there and needle out the _subtext_, which is that a young woman you almost let _die_ in that crummy apartment is terrified of being considered a hypocrite! She doesn't want to 'mess up' because she knows she's in at the deep end with everything the curse has rained down on her, and all this time I'm listening to her speak in this odd, new, _calm_ manner I'm looking at her wrists and I'm seeing the _blood_ that covered her like damned paint! The thought of Emma having to sit in that car with you-"

"-Note how it is yourself and not Miss Swan who is getting worked up over this?"

"... She _should_ get worked up about it! It should have been _her_ coming after you back at the shop, _not_ I!"

"I agree... And yet she seems adamant to act as though nothing has happened..."

"No. She simply won't put herself in a position where she might crack. As you so cleverly deduced, she is proud. She may have a hard time holding her tongue, but I imagine she's decided if she doesn't _start_ anything, she won't wind up struggling to_ finish_ it. She hasn't just let what you did to her _go_... I'd take good care to remember that if I were you..."

"I'm sorry?"

"You don't know Emma like I do. Just because she hasn't come for answers or to pay you reprimand doesn't mean she won't."

"I see... So I, the Dark One, am supposed to live in fear of a little blonde girl scorned?"

"... She is the Savior... And she is Snow's blood raised in this ant's nest of hate, desperation and mindlessness you see festering before you... I would if I were you."

The brunette's tone is dark but low; aware that this is not a conversation they want overheard by the sorry patrons of this despicable establishment. Gold allows her a small nod, however, and tells her curtly he will bear her words in mind.

He does not, in fact, think of Emma as a 'little blonde girl scorned' but he is growing tired of dealing with the disgraced Queen when the only person he needs to keep sweet is the Sheriff herself. He understands Regina's point, but does not believe her threat... Emma neither has the power, nor the innate need for_ revenge_ that would instil any true fear within him, and he has long ago discarded the trepidation that she might try to screw him over on their deal in some way.

It serves her no purpose... And the blonde is much smarter than she can sometimes come across.

Taking up his cane in defeat, he moves from the table stiffly; something in the air in this new and unknown world making his leg ache and his bones creak. He moves towards the peeling sign for the restroom posted to their left; smart dress shoes squeaking on cheap linoleum.

* * *

As Gold pulls open the door to the restroom, it is entirely by accident that he collides with its previous occupant. Cane slipping on damp tiles, he registers its tip connecting with flesh before his vision is obscured by a mass of cornsilk curls and his ears fill with an almost primal growl.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"-Get away!"

He lets out a low croak as he is pushed roughly into the door which has swept briskly closed; shutting him and his assailant into the tiled prison within.

"Emma-"

"-Don't touch me!"

Despite the choked delivery of her words, there is no real trace of fear in her tone, but rather an animalistic anger, and when he gathers himself and looks up at her, he is faced with hard lines of rage etched across her face behind the damning end of a silver barrel.

"Miss Swan-"

"-_Ah!_ You move, you'll regret it! What do you want with me?!"

"... _Nothing!_ I... I came to use the restroom!"

Green eyes narrow, before the Sheriff lets out a low sigh and whips the gun back into the pocket of her jacket as though such an act comes completely naturally. Shaken, Gold takes a tentative step away from the door and towards the blonde and raises his hands slightly in a sign of peace.

"I came to use the restroom and bumped into you, I didn't even know you were in here."

"Why should I believe you?"

"... What other choice do you have?"

"... You try anything... _Anything_... I'll-"

"Emma... Why would I _try_ anything?... As you said yourself... I_ need_ you. I have no intention of causing you any harm... I never _did!_"

The pawnbroker explains carefully, but he finds himself reflecting on the Queen's warning as the Sheriff simply proceeds to rest her rear against the flecked enamel of the sink and regards him with an intensity both alarming and alluring.

"So you say."

"... I do."

"Words are easy. Cheap."

"Miss Swan, I apologise for-"

"Don't. I don't want you to apologise to me. I want you to stand by your word that you don't plan on doing it again."

"I just _told_ you I-"

"-And_ I_ just told _you_ talk was cheap-"

"-Then how do you-"

"-Actions. You see me and Regina through this and you make sure we don't end up getting fucked over... Because I will tell you this much... I _know_ who you are, and I _know_ what you could do to me... But don't believe for a _second_ that _this_ time I won't be ready to give you at least a parting shot... You may be powerful, Gold, but you try _anything_ on either Regina or myself again, and I will have a bullet in your head head as you try your wizardy shit, or die trying."

He wants to laugh at her for her term of phrase- at her grandiose threats and stone cold mercenary act in general- but reading people is something he has somewhat mastered over the years, and a single look into the hard ice of her eyes informs him that however fanciful her warning may be; she means every word of it.

"... I don't want to hurt you... Or Regina."

"Time will tell..."

She shrugs, and it's as if the gesture serves to throw off the bitter exterior- _interior... that wasn't an act... it's what she's been hiding-_ of her anger, and she simply pulls a hand through her long hair and makes casually for the door, Gold turning to watch her go.

"... Does she know you have that? Regina? Does she know you have a gun?"

"... She never asked."


End file.
